Vietnam (Hanoi, Halong Bay and Sapa)

All my life I've always wanted to go to Vietnam, a place normally consigned to movies about 'that' war and images of rice paddies. We were heading to North Vietnam, though, which is generally off the map in terms of visiting old battle grounds. Our first stop was to be Hanoi, then to Halong Bay on the coast and then to Sapa for Christmas, a town in the Northern mountains near the border to China (you can watch our video here. This was to be another tour into an Asian country that is post-French, our first being Laos. We arrived, feeling all Christmassy, on a cold Hanoi December morning and were picked up by one of the staff from The Especen Hotel. It's a budget affair, right in the old quarter of Hanoi. The old quarter is so packed with charm that I will find it impossible to describe. I saw a few wandering tourists looking overwhelmed, not only by the oppressive traffic but the amount of information you need to process from all the action (read 'traffic'), the shop fronts, the steam rising from the noodle stalls, the noise, the smells, the people crouching on corners tucking into Pho...the massive Catholic church? Yep. Lines on a map do determine differences. How naive of us to imagine that Vietnam would be like Thailand simply because they are neighbours. The first thing you will notice when arriving in Hanoi are the car horns. Like walking into a beekeeping farm...but the bees are driving Honda's and Vespa's, stacked with bags of rice. Or wood. Shoes. Or whatever the shop down the road wanted delivered. Each different kind of vehicle has it's own horn sound. Buses and trucks, for example, have a horn with a falling tone that's almost friendly. The car horn is used not to show aggravation but simply as an indicator that they are near to you and everybody in Hanoi is near to each other...so you can imagine. We spent the first two days wandering the streets of the old quarter in Hanoi before going to Halong Bay, which is famous for it's karst formations off the coast. The French influence is still there in their culinary diet and it seems that art is flourishing in Vietnam - a lot of it a fusion of European and Asian styles. We ate crickets in a restaurant, drank Beer Hanoi (at ten pence a glass), marvelled at the French-Vietnamese architecture, ate Pho noodles, relaxed in French cafes and learnt how to cross the street. I fell in love with this place...

This shop was full of old propaganda posters. Should have bought one! Bought a Tin-Tin in Vietnam wall hanging instead. *hangs head in shame* There were loads of art galleries here of beautiful Vietnamese and French art, sometimes a fusion of the two styles. 

St. Josephs Church (1886) taken from La Place cafe, a little French bistro where you can order crepes and coffee. And noodles, of course. 

A typical lane south of the lake, near our hotel. Coming from Bangkok, a vibrant and hectic city in it's own right, Hanoi's chaos shouldn't have affected us but it did. It was a bit like a pleasurable panic attack.

It seems that someone, somewhere, always needs something delivered. All the time. 

We tried to get a glimpse of 'Uncle Ho' (Ho Chi Minh) but it was shut. According to rumour, he is taken to Russia every year to be re-embalmed. Look him up, he's an absolute legend (political views aside...).

Nothing is too large, awkward or heavy to be delivered by motorbike here.

Don't forget to look up when you wander around Hanoi to see the French architecture. 

Hoan Kiem Lake ('Lake of the Returned Sword'), slap bang in the center of the old quarter, is a setting for an old Vietnamese myth. A Vietnamese emperor used a sword called 'Heaven's Will' to defeat the Chinese Ming dynasty. He offered it to the Golden Turtle God in the lake and the rest is history. In fact, there are large soft-shelled turtles inhabiting the lake that are an endangered species. 

This place is exactly what it says it is. 

 The loud speaker, which occasionally blasts out propaganda. I think. It sounds like it, anyway...

Hanoi is just so full of STUFF.

Tucked down a tiny little alley, off a road called Ma May, was our favourite little discovery. It's an art gallery/cafe/restaurant set in two different rickety French apartments called 'Nola'. Go there. If you want a little bit of quiet, some Facebook time whilst glancing at the busy street below you, or just a good bowl of noodles and a glass of wine, whatever, just go there. 

This shot below is of their terrace. 

We then went to see the water puppet show, which was amazing. The music was incredible, done by a live band as you watch pastoral scenes performed on about four feet of water. The puppeteers are behind the backdrop and they control the puppets that are attached to long sticks under the water. The effect is quite realistic at times as there are literally no strings attached.

Unfortunately our time in Hanoi was slightly marred by scams. The night before we left to Halong Bay, Erika found someone with a hand in her bag. Fair enough, that could happen anywhere. The day we left, however, was a different story altogether. We got a cab to the bus station and as we pulled up to the entrance, our cab driver suddenly told us to get out as soon as possible. It was obvious he was worried about something and it wasn't too long until we were surrounded by about six or seven policeman telling the driver to get 200,000 Dong from us (only five quid). When I asked the driver why he couldn't really reply and was visibly shaking. I gave him 100,000 and told him that the police wouldn't get more unless they told us what was going on. They never did. Ah well. We were off to Halong Bay, that should be better, right?

No.

It wasn't.

In a nutshell: we went to Cat Ba Island, as suggested by Lonely Planet, to escape the hordes that want to witness the limestone karst formations that Top Gear made so famous in their Vietnam Special program. Cat Ba Island itself is beautiful but it's obvious that the beach we stayed at, the main strip of hotels and bars, is all run by gangsters. Across from the seafront there was a floating wooden restaurant, about 100 metres out to sea. A charming old man invited us on a boat to go and have dinner on his floating restaurant. We accepted and before we knew it we were choosing a fish from nets in the sea which was on our plates within 20 minutes. The food was great and we had the whole place to ourselves - we had a helping of prawns, some rice and a beer each. It was a great meal and the service was fantastic. I asked for the bill and the friendly, charming old man gave me a bill for $110. I asked him if it was actually for $11, as this was surely a mistake. Friendly, charming old man changed into threatening, ugly old man. I told him I wouldn't pay it and that he better call the boat to take us back to the mainland. He refused. I gave him what I had, $50, and told him that was still twice what he should be charging. He still wouldn't call the boat and his large cook now joined us. We were the only people on the raft and we were being totally scammed. I used language that would shame a weathered pirate. I didn't care. I was so sick of being ripped off. It started to get nasty, so I pretended to call 'my friends' (of course it was just me and Erika here) on the mainland, motioning with my free arm to come to the raft. Immediately he let us go. I told him he was an idiot for thinking only about next week and not the next ten years, as his little place had real potential. When we got back to the beach, we were met by about 15 of his little brats that work the streets and they were being hostile to us. We went back to the hotel and got the earliest cab the next morning out of Cat Ba. What an absolute scar on the face of the earth. Don't go there and certainly avoid the floating restaurants. 

Aaaaaaaaanyway...on the plus side, the ferry we took sailed through the islands we came to see...

This is me basically saying 'It's got nothing on Krabi'. If you've been to Thailand's Andaman coast and you've experienced the karst formations there, you can give Halong Bay a miss.

Ah well. I can't remember the last time I was so relieved to leave somewhere. Probably Acton...

We went back to Hanoi and stayed a couple nights at The Boutique Hotel 2 which is highly recommended. It was about 15 quid a night for an aircon room and the staff are fantastic. I spent a lot of my time teaching the porter English. We visited the 'Temple of Literature' which was founded in 1070 as a Confusian temple. Seven years later it became Vietnam's first university, almost one hundred years before Oxford. It's a beautiful, peaceful place and well worth the visit. During this time a cab driver doctored his metre to try and charge us 5 times the price of what a ten minute drive should have been. I think by this time our patience was running low with the various scams that existed in Vietnam. 

It was time to go to Sapa and we were hoping that it would be a better experience in terms of scams. Luckily, it is one of the most incredible places we've ever been to. We took the overnight train to Lao Cai and arrived there at about 5:30am. From there we were packed into a mini van which drove us up and along winding roads to Sapa, only a 40 minute drive or so. It was getting colder and we were wearing our jackets. I wiped the steamed window as we arrived so I could get a glimpse of this place but couldn't see further than ten meters in front of me. It seemed the fog up here was incredibly thick, so much so that exiting the van I almost expected to walk onto the set of 'Stars In Their Eyes'. Immediately we were mobbed by two elderly tribeswomen who told us to give them a 'pinky promise' to meet them later to buy their wares. Their English was great and I couldn't help but smile back at their beaming faces. We found our hotel, Pinnochio, and had a nap. Well, we tried to but the room was so cold and the blankets were damp and musty. We decided there and then to spend a little bit more and stay somewhere dry. No point getting sick on your holiday. We ventured out into the fog and just couldn't see a thing. We had no idea what our view was meant to be, let alone how big this place was. 

We found a little bar and had some mulled wine and then went back to our room. We decided to have a duvet day until the next day. We watched Breaking Bad for about 8 hours. Intrepid we weren't. 

The next day we woke up to this.

Ah, yes. I forgot we were in the mountains! Well, what can I say. We moved to another hotel called 'Holiday Sapa Hotel' which was like being upgraded from a hut to a palace. Warm, toasty, wooden and with views to die for. For the next few days Erika and I simply wandered about and divided our time between mulled wine and amazing cheap food. The charm this place has is unbeatable. The restaurants (French, Italian, Vietnamese, Indian and more) that line the streets are top quality and every one of them had an open fire, dimly lit ambience and a big old Christmas tree tucked into the corner. Mix that with the hill tribes that sell their wares and you get the idea. It's a special place. There's a church that welcomes all people and we went to witness the hill tribes singing their own hymns. I've never heard anything like it before - they've managed to combine their traditional music with European hymns and it works. We also visited Cat Cat, which is the nearest Black Hmong village, just an hours walk away. If you live in a hot country and fancy being appropriately cold for Xmas, come here. Forget the Alps. 

Hill tribes bring their kids with them to work. You've never seen cheeks so red. 

Hanging their newly dyed fabrics out in the market square, with the church in the back. 

On the way to Cat Cat...

A little note about the market. Dogs are eaten and are treated as a delicacy, so you may see one of them chopped up and on display. The thing is, you can just turn the corner and you're somewhere in the French alps. These differences are what make Sapa. Go there. 

When I think of Vietnam, like most people I think of the war and of movies that tried to capture 'the horror' and the futility of the whole expedition. Because that's what it was, wasn't it? A military expedition. A pre-emptive strike that caused more damage in the long run. Sounds incredibly familiar. Before we went to Vietnam, our last big trip was to beautiful Laos - the unsung victim of that war which you can read about in more detail on our blog. It seems wherever you go in South East Asia, you are reminded of various foreign occupations that held the countries by force of trade or ideology - from the French, to the Japanese, to the Americans, with the British always meddling (of course) in the affairs one way or another. Thailand, almost dragged into a war with the French in the 1940's, has escaped relatively unharmed and is rightly proud of their diplomatic achievements (although some criticise their dealings with the occupying Japanese). The reason I'm writing this is because a nation's psyche is always the result of the seeds that sow it's story, and Vietnam is exemplary on this point. If the Thai's view the farang as a curiosity, then the Vietnamese see us as a matter of fact. They've had white faces occupying their lands on and off for 100 years until the end of the Vietnam War (at least until they opened their gates to tourism 20 years ago), with the Chinese as their main antagonists for the last 2,000 years or so. The warm welcome is there. It is. But underlying that is a history that seems to still permeate Vietnamese thought. When we walked out into the streets of Hanoi, I immediately felt overwhelmed - both by the hustle and bustle of the narrow, cold streets but also by the fact a line drawn across a map can produce such juxtapositions of identity.