Hanoi: A Guide for Nervous Travelers September 18, 2009
Posted by tedbrassfield in Uncategorized.Tags: guide, hanoi, travel, vacation, vietnam
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Hanoi. The name conjures images of colonial grace and oppression, black-clad vietminh soldiers, captured pilots, domino theory, Uncle Ho. Upon hearing of our intention to visit, most people expressed concern. Is it safe? Is there anything to do there? Don’t they hate Americans? Don’t drink the water.
I hope to share much about our trip, but first I would like to offer a few suggestions for the wary western traveler.
Ha Noi is a city best experienced slowly. Rush into things, try to zip from place to place, and it will overwhelm you. Instead, find pleasant places to sit back and watch the rush, rather than fighting your way through it. You will meet more interesting people, taste better flavors, find a respite from the unending noise, and experience a wonderful place this way.
Tip #1 Location, location, location
Getting a good night’s rest and having a comfortable “base camp” is important. We loved Spring Hotel #2 on St. Joseph’s square. The proprietor, Mr. Ming, and his sons’ were charming and helpful hosts. Their recommendations for food were always fantastic. The room ($25, negotiable) was clean, the a/c quiet & efficient, and our belongings were safe.
Note: outside of expensive western-style hotels, you won’t find shower curtains. Instead, the Vietnamese rely on floor drains. Bring a pair of flip flops (or use the ones provided) to keep your delicate feet from getting wet after you shower.
A few doors down, Hotel Cinamon also looked cute, though we did not check out the rooms.
Tip #2 Eat a lot
The unnamed Pho place (serving until about 10am) next door to Spring Hotel is a great way to start the day. You don’t want to brave the hussle and bussle of Ha Noi without some food in your stomach-otherwise, nothing will be in place to keep your organs internal once the honking starts!
If it looks good on the street, try it. The Pho was less than a dollar. Phenomenal mussels & clams were less than $2 (that’s with a 75-100% westerner who didn’t question the price first tax). Bia Hoi, the ubiquitious afternoon/early evening beer, was never more than $0.35, and commonly closer to $0.15. I even found a durian, unfortunately underripe, for $2.25 (Ming explained that I should have asked the seller to open the end before purchasing, to determine if the odor was sufficiently ripe. . . Think gym locker room. I did not request this treatment for the fruit I later saw at Ishitan dept. store in Tokyo for 40X. At that price, I assumed the fruit would be ripe (though I did not try it)).
Tips #3 Cafe Culture, #4 Cab For Quiet, #5Frogger-Style Street Crossing, #6 keep perspective, and #7 sanctuaries were just dropped by my iPhone and will be rewritten later. In the meantime, buy your tickets, take a slow deep breath, and enjoy Ha Noi.
Asia: No Moderation (in progress) September 11, 2009
Posted by tedbrassfield in Uncategorized.Tags: monks, snake liquor, typhoon, typhoons
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Only four days left on our Asian jaunt. It had been an incredible adventure on a land where nothing is clear at first glance, and the obvious is anything but.
The Vietnamese seem to love walking. In the early morning and late evening, friends and families take casual strolls around Hoan Kiem Lake. In the nearby tourist town of Cat Ba, the locals wonder the streets on foot (and on bicycles built for two) throughout the night. During the day, however, it is nigh impossible to walk anywhere on the streets of Hanoi. The city is home to more than four million motorbikes. At any given time, three million of these are on the road. Another three million are parked perpendicular across the sidewalks of downtown. And at least thirty million bikes are being offered to tourists for “ride moto. You want ride moto.”
I attribute any errors in my math to the prolific use of the horn by any and all vehicles. Drivers honk when passing, honk when it is safe to pass, honk repeatedly when they see a person on the side of the road who might secretly harbor a desire go travel in the same direction, honk when they see friends or appealing foodstuffs, and honk when they think the roadway is too quiet. They do not honk when approaching unlit turns on mountain passes, however. Not because it would be excessive, mind you, but because they only really care if another vehicle is approaching, and if they haven’t heard a horn, there is clearly no nearby vehicle and therefore no need to sound their horn.
Similarly, the Pachinko parlor in Tokyo put any Vegas casino to shame. Every machine lit up in a cacaphony of flashing, blinking, dizzying colors-it was a rather discordiant symphony at that.
On the way to Cat Ba, we took a regional bus. It wasn’t clear, but the bus mIght
Chilli Sauce
Tuong ban
Our return was also interesting. Rumors of an impending typhoon quietly spread through the foreign traveler community. No one had themselves verified the forecast, but the rain was falling harder and harder. We decided to cut short our stay and return to Hanoi rather than risk being stranded (or worse). Rather than wing it, as we had on the way up, we booked a fast boat and bus combo back to Hanoi. The boat was fast, though getting to it involved a unadvertised minibus through the mountanous interior of CatBa. We docked at the empty end of nowhere, a desolate dock far from the industrial center of the thriving port Hai Phong, but further from the city itself. Our crew then boarded another minibus. It was crowded. She (who must be obeyed) and I shared a foldout seat, another passenger and the tourguide both stood in the open doorway for several minutes before the guide maneuvered to a position whereby he could shut the door. I was quite afraid that we could all go flying, so She put the camera around her neck.
Eventually we arrived at a bus terminal in Hai Phong. She decided to continue her tour of the facilities of the East. Bad decision. Evidently this pay toilet was so bad that the operators wouldn’t install lighting so that they might obscure any other problems.
We are now sitting on the express bus. I am fairly certain that this shorter drive has taken more time than did the ride to halong city. Not because traffic is particularly bad, mind you, but rather because there is more space to pick up additional passengers: while to our western eyes, this bus had only two rows of two seats, it actually has three. Every row of the aisle is also filled with passengers seeking service along the route, seated atop the little plastic chairs of bai hoi joints. Express seems to mean only that we won’t stop for smoking or to pick up foodstuffs.
Another change: we can’t talk because we are using earplugs. Easy fix, no? Unfortunately, the driver takes his horn duties very seriously and plays poorly dubbed Hollywood flicks so the front speakers can be heard in the back row. And our other passengers, like most Vietnamese we have observed, prefer to yell into the speakerphone rather than talking onto the mic.
The movies are interesting. It appears as though the censors won’t allow the visual depiction of firing a gun, so the screen goes blue every few seconds, though the audio continues.
Honestly, between these, the pachinko, and the yelling of the electronics hawkers (indeed all merchants in japan), I am surprised that all asians aren’t deaf.
