Hanoi to Hoi An

Arriving at the crazy Hanoi railway station I grab a cab and head to the airport, far too early to check in so go have a pho, a tasteless bowl of noodle soup and a lousy coffee.

Eventually i get to check in and make my way to the mezzanine floor where I settled in to have an omelet.  It was tasteless but the protein burst was great and i felt human again until a rat, yes a rat, ran over my foot.  It happened so fast I didnt even have time to react but saw it slither under the seat.  I lifted my feet after that and left the restaurant soon after.

My short flight to HoiAn was uneventful and  I arrive in NaTrang not really knowing what to expect but looking forward to something nice and slow once I got to HoiAn.

I grab a cab from one of the marshalls on the cab rank and start on my journey to town.  Shortly after the cab set off the cabbies phine rings and he gives me the phone.  The lady form the cab rank telling me the cabbie is going to take me to somewhere to other to show me.  I lost it.  Of course it was a scam, a. To take me the long way round and get a better fare and b. To take me to some friends shop so I could buy and they could get a commission.  Not going to happen and the more I said no th emore insistent she was.  In the end I threatened Police and the converstaion ended.

When we arrived at the hotel I asked the hotel porters what the usual fare is and instead if answering me straight away they asked the cabbie how much it came to, so I knew i had been ripped off ther as well.  When I checked the map later I realised we had come the long way.  Oh well.  Too late an dits only a few bucks.

I go to check in and realise they were charging more for one for one night than the others.  It was then that they told me there was a mandatory charge for New Years Eve as I was going to the gala dinner; a buffet.  Neither of those were going to happen and so it started. I was tired, I had just had the discussion with the cab lady, been ripped off by a taxi driver and there was no way that I was going to,pay for something I had not agreed to and did not want to attend.  In the end I contacted Matt and he said they had the same issue and they were not going to the Gala Dinner either  After a protracted discussion the hotel agreed to waive the requirement that I had to attend and the requirement to pay.  Great.

Iam shown to my room, quite nice, but with a damp smell but what the hell.  It had hot water and a bed.  As soon as I get onto my email. I see a re-comfirmation of accommodation had come through from the Hotel booking agency, less the dinner requirement, and the dinner charge and also minus the free breakfast. Can't be bothereed arguing any more I am so over it and seldom eat breakfast anyway.

Matt Amy and I go for a wander.  What a picture perfect wee city.  Totally overrun by tourists, but totally in keeping with the beautiful heritage architecture and totally covered with lanterns.  

                              

We cross the river and stop at a coffee shop for a great coffee and pancakes.  Nutella (pronounced Nutter-la with the emphais on the nut) and banana for me.  Yum.  Next door is a lovely clean and well organised massage place where we three go and have a leg massage (note this is a LEG massage) and is for a half leg massage and foot scrub.  Divine and a stupid price of about $5.

                                                

We keep wandering and then return to the hotel for a rest before dinner at another place over the river. I forgot to take photos but our fish in banana leaves was ok, the beef in betel leaves was almost as good as Makphet's version and the calypso rice weird but nice.  

                                    

                                  

Ladies selling floating candles lined the streets and we watched a few candles drift down the river.

                               

We return to the coffee shop for an ice cream (roll your own, add your topping and sweeties, get it weighed and enjoy). A great end to what turned out to be a lovely day.

A long long day

I was so cold in my room that I stayed in bed as long as I possibly could and then ran up turned on the hot water to give it a chance to get hot and crawled into bed again. When I eventually got up and into the shower it was a pleasant surprise as although the pressure wasn't great it was reasonably hot and warmed me up.

Breakfast was free with the room so I ordered a toasted sandwich, after yesterdays French Toast I wasn't sure what I would get.  Well, it was two very fat pieces of toast wrapped around raw cheese, ham, tomato, cucumber and egg.  Im glad I asked them to hold the tomato and the lettuce, they would have made it even soggier than it was.  As soon as I picked it up my fingers went straight through the bread and that was it.  I couldnt even look at if after that, but I did enjoy the coffee.

The place is still covered in mist, so my options for the day are to sit in the hotel foyer or go walking and looking at the mist.  I could have gone with a Hmong to her village but am so over going to contrived tourst villages where they see us tourists as money machines so that wsnt going to happen, but thought I would follow the idea that the lady in the hotel gave me decided to walk down hill to a village, 1km she said.  I walked the 1km and found it took me to a ticket office where I had to pay to go into the village which was 2.5km away.  Even if I had gone down that track I still wouldnt have been able to see anything as it was mistier down there than higher up.  Walking back I notice the sign..  Violet?

                               

I turn and walk back up the hill and spend the day aimlessly wandering, avoiding the Hmong who are everywhere and constantly hastling.  I notice their black hands and initially think it is dirt, which seemed weird as their clothes are spotless, but then realise that it is either from the dying of fabric, which they are known for, or from the residue of the fabrics that they are wearing.  I also wonder how much of this is real and how much a tourist stunt.  Do they always wear traditional dress or is it donned just for the tourists?  Other than shop and hospitality owners/workers and tourists all the other people appear to be Hmong in traditional dress, where is everyone else?  I overhear a Hmong saying that very quiet... Not many tourists, which is why all the restaurants are empty, but it would be horrible with piles more tourists, absolutely horrible, so I am glad I have missed them, and those that didn't come are probably glad they missed the snow and the mist.

I go back to the hope centre where some of the girls are sitting, warm in their new coats, smiles allover  their faces.  Loved it.  We had a great chat and they kept saying thank you.  Not me loves, but some other amazing people.

Walking back down the hill I find a little guy dancing in the street and got him to pose for me.  He went crazy when he saw the photo and I tried to grab another while he was jumping and waving his arms around.  Just too gorgeous. His family were all laughing. 

                                

I have found some amazingly fiendly and lovely people here, not as much as in HCMC but still plenty, but cant help notice the difference between the everyday random people who are so cheery and some of the rude service staff. That was reinforced when I eventually hit the airport and. Was snapped at by most everyone I spoke to.

Just checking out the sights around town was fun:

  

 

                                                                   

I feel peckish but wary of the many restaurants with no patrons and wonder of the freshness of food with no turnover.  Yesterday's street BBQ has put me off and I didn't want to go to the place I have already been to twice so I wandered on.  For some reason I thought pizza and the thought stuck.  I'm surprised that after my last pizza I ever want to have pizza again but the thought wont go away.  I eventually find a lovley looking place and go in, dark and filled with "ambience".   As soon as I ask for the pizza they tell me no electricity, so no pizza but I can have anything else, except for everything else I ask for.  The whole town is out, I am told.  I leave, been through the no power thing one time too many.  

And so I return to wandreing through the market where I buy some donuts to eat on the train.  No snack stores around so this will have to do.  As I walk through the market I notice tht some stalls have lights on so follow the trail and end up next to the hotel where I am sitting as I write.  The only customer so I order fried rice which they cant do anything drastic to.  There is an open fire but funnily enough I was warmer outside.  There is beautiful french music playing.  I love it.  The fried rice comes and is totally tasteless but at least was hot and is edible.  

Only three more hours to kill and I can go get ready to be collected for the train.  I still hope for sunshine and a break in the mist so I can see the beauty of this countryside.  By the time I get on the bus to leave it will be dark so wont see anything then either.  Really upset with myself in my quest to get off  the beaten track and see the way the people live and then I choose to come here, which is the most tourist false place I have been, but it was the scenery that was the attraction and I missed that as well.  Oh well too late now.  The thought of arriving in Hanoi at 4am and then having to kill time till I go to Hoi An as well is a bit of a put off.  Maybe my hunch about not coming was something I should have listened  to.

At one stage I wander through the food markets, the absemce of flies is encouraging and the food looks really clean.  I see black chickens and wonder what they are.  I also see live chickens in cages and cringe when I think of the feather dusters I took photos of yesterday.  Vegetables are glistening with water but look extra fresh and crispy.  Next to the raw food market is what we would call a food hall.  Lots of tables with people cooking a variety of different things and their patrons sitting at the table eating while the vendor is cooking.  The patrons are mainly Hmong.

                                                                  

I wander up a street market where mainly Hmong have set up shop on the footpath. Same, same.  But on the corner are four beautiful ladies with the traditional red headdress of the Red Dao people.  They didn't  hastle me to buy anything and just smiled and asked me how old I was touching their hair.  I told them, they seemed surprised.  I asked how old they were and they said 50, beautifully smooth skin but their faces showed hardship that we do not know about in our countries.  I felt sad for them.  Interestingly of the four, three wore glasses which I had not seen on tribal people before.  One of the ladies even had the sticker on hers showing the strength.

                                                               

As I think about that I remember the number of Hmong women I have seen with gold teeth; not one but many women often with multiple gold teeth.  I haven't seen any with teeth missing.  Being a Hmong tourist tout obviously pays well.  The young lady that attached herself to me yesterday, sidles up to me as I wander and tells me I need to buy something.  Sorry love, but I have now spent the money.  I saw her later and she glared at me.  Another one that I didnt buy from called out after me for the world to hear "eff you kay", and yet another grumped at me.  I'm glad I didn't indulge them.  Signs around town say not to buy from them so glad I did the right thing.  Below is a group trying to weasel something out of yet another unsuspecting tourist.

                               

Reflecting back on my trip it is one of the few where I haven't spent time with local people and learned of their way of life and although I have seen lots I don't feel as though I have experienced much at all and certainly haven't learned much.  My closest contact with locals was in HCMC with crazy Philip, the SiMueng/That Luang Festival, Christmas Eve in Hanoi, the street children of Sapa and the small contact with the Hmong at Ock Pop Tok in Luang Prabang.  The rest of the time has mainly been going from one westernised tourist trap to another aimlessly wandering the streets like I have done here.  Seems a waste of three months, but then that wasn't my primary reason for coming anyway.  It has however fuelled my fire to get back to Africa and the Middle East which is where my heart has always been.

Fried Rice done I am going in search of a coffee to stretch out the afternoon. As I walk I get a glimpse of some rice fields in the distance.  The mist is clearing and so I go in search of a photo, just one that might prove that I have been.  The other pics I can steal from elsewhere or from the picture postcards that inspired me to come.  Maybe my amazing experience in the rice paddies of Bali will have to suffice.

It is still very misty and I try many options on the camera so not sure what has worked and what hasnt. I can only imagine how spectacular the scenery must be when the rice is planted and the sun is shining.  It looks magical in the postcards.  Even through the mist I can see the shapes of the fields and the irrigation channels running round the sides allowing the water to move from one paddy to the next.

                             

                                                           

I go for a long walk and as it nears 3:30 I start to think of a hot drink and maybe some food before my trip.  Too late the power is now out around the hotel area and the best I can get is a Vietnamese Instant Coffee, putrid but hot, at the hotel where I stayed.   One of the guests comes to say that lights aren't working.  No one knows how to explain, so I do.  She isn't given a torch or any solution and the staff carry on chatting and giggling.  I would have thought that where power failures are regular, and in a multi storey hotel, that a torch in the room and in the reception would be a minimum.  Most of the staff speak minimal english and no French which is weird since the place is advertised on English websites and on international booking sites.  Whenever I speak to the receptionist she gives me a pained look and shakes her head.  Sometimes she answers with something totally unrelated to my question.  In the end I gave up, stopped asking questions and ate elsewhere.

As I sit, getting colder, drinking this putrid excuse for a coffee I am given a plate of sweet coconut which comes in short lengths of something that looks like white lasagna.  It is coated with icing sugar and tastes weird but quite nice.  The sweetness is good and by the time I finish the plateful have decided that I really like it.  yum.  

Sitting here I can see kids playing a game similar to badminton, with a shuttlecock type thing.  Instead of the racket they use their feet.  Some tourists join in and everyone laughs.  The tourists have the advantage of longer legs but no one seems to mind.  Further down the road I saw people playing badminton and cheered them on as they won points.

                              

Eventually the mini bus arrives and I am on my way to Lao Cai to get the train back to Hanoi.  The light is low but the scenery stupendous.  One day when I buy a decent camera I am going to come back this way, drive myself to some point along the road, avoid Sapa, but do the photo shoot thing.  It is datk when we arrive in Lao Cai.  I am quite apprehensive about sharing a cabin again, with other people I dont know.  It could be anyone.  When I go get my ticket I stress that I want an upper bunk and she grabs a pre-printed ticket from the pile and gives it to me.

Eventually the doors open and all hell breaks loose with people scrambling for the train leaving just before mine.  Basic, very basic.  Wooden seats for a 12 hour overnight train ride.  No thanks.  

Soon my train arrives and we pile on board.  I am the first in my carriage and dump my things to claim my spot.  I turn around to go out to the loo and trying to get in the door are the girls that I shared with two nights ago.  Totally random choice of berth numbers and another amazing coincidence. It was like  a family reunion.  I was so relieved and it was hugs all round.  These girls are amazing.  They have clothed nearly 300 kids in the region with shoes, socks, gloves, jackets and a pair of trousers.  Many had never had real shoes before.  And the girls are so humble about what they have done.  Amazing and I am so humbled and honoured that I had the chance to be part of it.

                               

The train system is a bit of a laugh.  Different companies run different carraiges on the same train it appears.   All the same class but some classier than others.  This one that I am in is spotless, newer than the last.  Beds (4 to a cabin)  are made up with clean white sheets, a lovely pillow and duvet and we get complimentary water, beer and coke.  Pretty nice for about $20 each way.

We snuggle in, I pop a bluey and good night all.  My bunk is hard, but it is toasty warm and I am happy.  Goodnight from the rail to Hanoi.

Alas the sleep I had the first night was a one off.  That train was so smooth and we all got a good nights sleep.  This one was giggling, noisy, shaky, hot - all sorts, so we all arrived Hanoi feeling rotten.  One of the guys helped me get a cab at a good price and I made it to the airport with 4 hours to kill before my flight.  Not a good place to spend alot of time.  Little good food, cold seats and right now my head is spinning and I need a nap, with no place to do it.  I'm even too early to check in and they were asking a silly amount to change me to the earlier flight.  And so I wait.........

Eventually I find a seat, cold metal, uncomfortable and next to me a guy whistles, badly. I so want to whack  him one.  Just as I start to get comfy I realise it is time for me to check in which I do without any issues and then wander upstairs, where I had been told there was no food unless I was flying international.  Duh!  four restaurants here.  Two run by the same crowd, one by the crowd that made me the tasteless Pho earlier this morning, so that rules them out.  The othr has a photo of pizza outside so I settle on that, although really want some big time protein to give me a burst.

My waitress somes to see what I want, holding one nostril whilst sniffing through the other.  If I hadn't been so tired and lacking in energy I would have left right then, but am at the stage where I cant be picky.  My previous attempt at eating today was a waste of time and money.  The Pho totally tasteless and the coffee average and at NZ prices.  Oh well, hopefully the omelet I order will do the trick and another waitress, sans nose drip, delivers it.  Fresh pineapple juice is good so that bodes well.  Anyway they have wifi so if nothing else can use their access to post this.

My omelet arrives, served by a guy, sans drip and looks yum.  I like the way they make them into a wee roll thing.  Hope it tastes as good.

Next update from Hoi An where I go by cab or shuttle after arriving into Da Nang by air.  Matt and Amy will be waiitng in a hotel that apparently is real noisy.  I so want to go home right at this minute.

The weather may not have been good enough to get any photos but thanks to some commercially bought postcards I have some images of the sort of thing I would have seen had the weather been better.  If I ever come this way again I get a car from the train station, drive much of the way to Sapa, but not all the way into town, take some pics and drive out again.  From what I saw on the drive back to the train the scenery on that road was stupendous.

                                                                   

The end of the train ride

Arriving at Lao Cai someone is there to meet me and show me to a mini bus.  A 12 seater that expands to a 16 seater.  It has room for about 5 bags in the boot and this space quickly gets filled.  As we leave I count 28 people and under each seat and the entire aisle are bags.  Hilarious, but off we set on our ride to Sapa.  I was looking forward to seeing the scenery but somehow nodded off and probably just as well as it was very windy and very steep with huge drops down the side.  The sort of road I hate.

                               

                                

                               

But when I open my eyes I am greeted with the most unimaginable beauty.  A shame as it is very misty so colours are dumbed down and visibility is not great, but here I am in this town on the side of a hill, bigger than I expected, a beautiful lake in the middle and the most amazing scenery.  

                               

Hmong ladies meet the busses, no doubt wanting to sell stuff.

                              

I get to the hotel, eager to get moving but I am told there is a complimentary breakfast, so I choose French Toast with grilled bananas and a local honey that is unbelievably good.  Ed Bee, sorry you and your honey  are off my top list.  I finish breakfast grab my backpack and I don the woolies I have there and I'm away exploring.

                              

Turning left I walk straight into a market place, where I immediately find a pair of walking shoes to replace those are a hurting my feet.  I pull on a pair of thick sockks and bury my feet in the warm shoes.  My top half is warm with a t.shirt, merino, cardigan and a polar fleece. My legs with trackies under travel trousers.  And I have a hood for my head.  Gloves not needed as I have deep pockets.

It's different from what I expected.  Quite a large town set in the side of the hill, full of tourist shops and many restaurants, mainly western/vietnamese but western style.  The scenery that I came to see is obscured by mist and everyhing has a grey hue.  Shame. 

                               

Nevertheless I walk on and wander taking in the sights as best I can in the mist.  I pass many food stalls with delicious food ready for BBQing, immaculately clean and no flies.  Later I say.

A young Black Hmong (I can tell from her outfit), with a baby on her back joins me and starts hastling me to buy buy buy, or come to my village. M neither of which i wanted to do.  She tells me she has embroidered all the bags she is selling which I know not to be true as I see the made in china labels on them.  Same handcrafts as the Hmong do in Lao but not of the good quality that much of the Lao stuff is.  There are Hmong all over the place, mainly selling or wanting to be a guide, but other ethnicities are not so obvious.  Shame I was hoping to see some of the others as well.  I eventually get rid of the Hmong girl and all the others that have tagged along by telling her that I wil buy one thing from her and only her, tomorrow, but only if the price is right.  Lets see what happens.

I wander on and suddenly I hear my name being called.  I look up and there are the girls from my carriage on the train last night.  We chat a while and they show me the first group of kids that are going to receive warm clothing.  They range from about 2 up to around 10, all homeless and most without jackets and wearing plastic shoes, flip flops or barefoot.  It broke my heart.  We talk for a while and I keep staring at the wee cold feet but like the wee kids in Kenya see the huge smiles as I look upwards from their feet.  These smiles though don't come with the sparkly eyes and most the kids look sad.  I couldn't  look.

                            

I bid my goodbyes and walk a wee way.  I look back over my shoulder then turn back.  I couldn't walk off without helping.  So spent part of the afternoon helping to distrubute clothes to these poor kids.  Some have been abandoned, some orphans due to war, accidents and illness, some of the older ones caring for wee siblings and all looked after by the HOPE group who provide them with a clean but basic bed and meals.  The two wee girls in th ephot are sisters.  The elder one looks after the younger who has never had proper shoes or a jacket.  Just broke my heart.  How can wee mites like that not have anyone to care for them and nothing to keep them warm.

                   

Seeing the smiles on the faces of the children and feeling their bodies warm up as I wrapped them in their jacket was indescribable.  Here they were getting some pretty cheap items of clothing, in a red plastic bag and they were so so so happy.  They knew warmth for the first time in many weeks since it snowed here unexpectedly.  As Impulled eaxh wee hand into the jacket sleeve I couldnt help noticing the layers of dirt on their skin and their clothes, caked on.  The darlings, they need a hot bath, drying with warm fluffy towels and a night in a warm bed wearing fluffy pjs.  Heartbreaking. But their smiles, their sparkling eyes I will not forget in a long time.  

When I saw the kids in the street later on they were waving and calling out to me.  Wow.  The two beautiful girls that organised this deserve a medal.  Amazing to be doing all this for kids they didn't know, in a country they didnt know and using their precious holiday time and money.  They fundraised in their homelands (1 from Thailand and the other from Taiwan) before coming to the markets in Hanoi  and buying all the stuff.  To see more about them search on SHOES FOR SAPA on facebook.  They deserve support and will still accept donations so they can ensure that their idea continues beyond this season.

When I leave the kids it is still misty but my day has been so great I have lost my enthusiasm for much else.  It is very cold and the place is swarming with tourists.  

I pass a stall that was BBQing in the sidewalk.  They had a wee suckling pig on the spit.  

                               

An Austrlian guy tels me it is just $7.50 so I hang around to try.  It took ages to make them understand what I wanted and I had to keep reminding them that I was waiitng but eventually they cut a piece off the pig and put it on the BBQ to finish cooking it.  I also asked for a rice in bamboo and a skewer that had rolls of beef around some green veg.  He pulls out a not so clean plastic plate from under the counter and puts my rice and skewer on it and tells me to go sit down while the pork cooks.  Both the rice and skewer were yum and then He brings the pork, chopped up nicely on a cleaner plate.  Well, $7.50 was a total rip off for some crackling, fat, bone and the tiniest piece of meat that was so 

 tough I couldn't chew it.  I nibbled on a couple of pieces, nearly choked on the fat, paid my bill $8.00 in total and left.  The rice and skewer for .50cents were the best patt amd not just because of the price.

Not my scene.  I think of doing a tour or trek tomorrow to fill time but find out that my choices are limited because I am a solo traveller.  I have to check out by noon and dont leave Sapa till 5pm so just hoping that the mist clears so I can at least go out and enjoy the scenery.  

My feet are sore, my back is sore and my throat is sore so I am thinking an early night is in order.  I return to my hotel and shiver when I walk into the room.. Despite the heater working in my room it is stil cold and the dehumidifier is obviosuly not that good as everything feels damp.  Another night sleeping in these same clothes I think.

For dinner I walk down to a nice place where I had a coffee earlier today.  By day it should look down onto the rice paddys, by night across to the lights of the town which I can only just see because of the mist.  It is full of tourists, western and asian, but then I suppose in a tourist town thats what to expect.  I order BBQ pork with lemon grass which comes with steamed rice and is exceptionally tender and tasty.  The pork sits on one of the BBQ thingies that are supposed to be eexclusive to each of the four countries I have been to, and was very very good.

                                   

To finish it off I order rum flambeed banana.  I know that everyone would hate it but maybe if you could just have a wee whiff you might change your mind.  Sweet soft bananas, slightly charred giving off a smoky taste sitting in a subtle buttery rum sauce.  To save my friends I ate it all and nearly asked for seconds.  And to top it off, my meal, desert and a coke cost less than the pork rubbish I tried to eat for lunch.

                                                      

I leave with the intention of having a hot drink at the hotel before going up to bed.  Alas the one and only staff member (who barely speaks English or any other language other than Vietnamese) tells me 'no tea' so now I sit at "the Hill Station patiently waiitng for an earl grey.  They have some neat seating here.  Round glass tables about 18" off the floor with round coils of rope acting as seats.  Cute.

                                                        

Feeling better with a hot tea inside me I return to the hotel and uplift my hotel key.  The hotel has rather eclectic furnishings, very tasteful but who ever came up with the idea for the keys needs a lobotomy.  It is a small hotel, old, with creaky floors, creaky doors that dont close properly so you have to whack them into place.  The key hangs off a large wooden cow bell which also has dangles hanging off it.  All make a noise.  So when opening or closing the door you get the knocking of the cow bell, the tingling of the dangles, the clicking of the noisy lock and the whacking of the door for each open and for each close.  Duh!

                                  

As I am getting ready for bed (and listening to,someone trying to open their door complete with doorbell, door scraping on the ground, squeaky hinges and hacking cough) I am trying to find something in my bag and then trying to find the light switches!  Easy you might ask, but almost every hotel room I have been in over the last two months (and there have been many) has "mood" lighting.  So,e have been bright enough to have a bed side lamp as well as the "mood" lighting but most have not.  I always wonder why it is called "mood" lighting because most times it is so dim that all it does is get me in a very bad mood because I can't find things, can't read and can't even put makeup of anything on.  It's not an Asian thing as it happens all over the world.  

In my current room there is an uplight above the TV set and it shines on the ceiling.  Another uplight shines on the ceiling in between two windows.  There is no light anywhere near the bed, the mirror or the wardrobe and the light switches for bedroom and bathroom are in the bathroom which is round the corner from the bedroom.

The bedside table sits under the window by itself and the hairdryer hangs on a hook miles away from anything including the power plug.  But there ate beautiful ornaments.  No room for my things.  I just trod on my specs which had fallen off the toilet bag which was using the only possible bit of bathroom space.  Maybe I shall start designing hotel rooms.........

I just heard scuttling noises and look out the window to investigate.  I could see a truck with whatblooked like huge  baskets.  Then one of them moved, then a tail waggled and I realised that therewere  probably 60 huge pigs on this truck, all lying down in large bamboo baskets, all grunting and wiggling.  It made me realise that this corner is the closest road entry to the market opposite.  Bugger.

The pigs start to squeal, loudly.  Oh no, please stop I do not want to be put off pork for life.

I am complaining too much, time to go home to my quiet house, my mad cat, my warmth, amazing shower and tidy clothes.

Last Day in Hanoi

My last day in this insane but magical city started by saying goodbye to the Bainbridge clan who were off to Ho Chi Minh.

Matt was busy so Amy and I went and got our hair washed, blowdried and straightened for the massive price of $7.50 each.  It is fun watching the different techniques amd seeing two guys holding hairdriers straight at my hair, watching in awe as it grew wider and wider as it dried.  I guess it must be weird for them after the hair they are used to working with, but considering they did a great job and I left happy, with straight hair.

Over the road was a spa waiting to welcome us so we went for a foot massage.  From the lovely clean and western style recpetion area in one of the tall skinny buildings we were led out a side door into a paved and grotty lane.  Ugh!  But then into the door of another part of the building where we were taken up a few flights of steps to a room with four massage tables, clean, and set up like a western style place.

We had to strip off and then given some knee length wide pants to wear.  Maybe we were getting a full massage and not just the leg one.  Well almost.  A great leg massgae and a brilliant back massage that went all the way down my back.  None of this namby pamby stuff we have at home where they stop at your waist.  It was wonderful except that it was a cold room and we were cold.  Oh well, it was still great and worth the $10 each that we paid.  

Lunch followed at a street stall.  Fried rice which was very very tasty and a huge plate cost $10 for both of us.  Brilliant, hairdo, massage and lunch for $45 for two and all superb.

                                                    

Not really having any plans and with 7 hours to kill before I need to be at my pick up point for Sapa, so I started walking.  Right up the east side of the old quarter, criss crossing to cover every road and then down the west side.  I have now seen every street and can officially say I am ready to move on from the Old Quarter.  Next time I visit Hanoi it will be in another part of the city as the differences between the areas are huge.  But everywhere it is vibrant, noisy and the people are so friendly, helpful and always smiling.  I love it. Stil havent had a rickshaw ride but the novelty has worn off.  I am ready to move on.

I go to the hotel, collect my bags and make my way to 6 on Sixteen, a boutique hotel and restaurant and my pick up point for the train.  Cute wee place but I am the only retauatrant customer and can't be bothered looking elsewhere.

I order the Bun Cha, the Hanoi Specialty, which I have tried before but this sounds more like what I expected.  Meal ordered I wait and hear the constant ping of the microwave.  It does not bode well but I need to eat before getting on the train as there is no food available on board. My suspicions confirmed.  It was a very lousy meal.  BBQ pork that has been micrwaved is not good.  The broth was tasty once I got through the layer of fat on the top and the rest of the meal was made up of overcooked noodles and strips of cucumber and carrot.  Not my best choice.  Still there is time...

I quickly scuttle down the road to grab something else and then right in front of me I spy Highlands.  O thank you whoever put it there.  Passionfruit mojito and fries sounds like just what I needed and was spot on.

My hip is giving me gyp.  I suspect that my massage has tweaked something and I am thinking how I will survive the night sleeping on the train.  I guess I will soon find out but something is telling me I shouldn't be going.  Too late now all booked and paid for so I can't change my mind and I am sure all will be fine.... Watch this space

My ride arrives and I am on my way to the train station to catch the overnight train to Sapa.  I am put in taxi with a guy following on the bike and soon arrive at the rather basic railway station.  We push through to the front of the group waiting for the doors to open.  They soon do and we walk across the tracks about 50 yards, cursing that I do not have the pack.  Wheelie bags, uneven ground and train tracks do not go well together.

We find my cabin which I am sharing with three others; a thai woman, her daughter and the daughters Taiwanese friend.  All off to Sapa with huge quantities of shoes, socks and jerseys for the people who are experiencing the coldest winter in 120 years and have recently had to contend with snow.  And I was worried about taking my cabin sized bag on board.  It takes a while for the to fit all their stuff in but eventually we are all sorted.

I settle into the upper bunk, quite comfortable, very clean but basic with a lovely pillow and duvet.  I pop a pill, struggle to get comfy with my sore hip. During the night I notice that the train stops regularly but so dark outside I can not see a thing.  Most of the time the train travells very smooth, you can barely tell that you are in a train and I suspect it is going very slow.  The lousy photo was taken from my upper berth and has picked up someone walking past in the corridor, but the girls got some great ones of all of us squeezed around their bags of stuff for the kids.

                                    

Morning arrives quickly and I get up to see the scenery but it is quite boring.  The trip wasnt anywhere near as bad as I had imagined and despite waking feeling groggy from the sleeping pill I felt as though I had slept reasonably well.  A shower to start the day would have been good but sadly these trains dont stretch that far.  There isnt even a lounge or food stall.  Loos are there and very clean as well and at the end of each carriage was a wash basin which again was clean and great if you didn't mind the whole world watching you wash.

The train arrives in Lao Cai and we all pile out.  No drama, no fuss.  Someone is waiting with a sign with Helen Dodson written on it.  I assumed that it was me and made my way to the train waiting area from where we were ushered to the bus waiting area.  And the next story starts........

Boxing Day in Hanoi

With nothing special planned the day got off to a late start when I met up with Matt and Amy for a wander through the French Quarter.  Very pretty and elegant but lacking the buzz and hilarity of the Old Quarter?

We moved back to the fun part and had a great lunch of fried rice with roast pork while sitting at a roadside stall.  The hint of chili oil I drizzled over mine just giving it that bit of a zing.  The veg that came with the pork looked real shady but it turned out to be soemhtign like bok choy that probably had been cooked with some sort of seasoning causing it to change colour to khaki but also to be unbelieveably tasty.  Real good, real tasty, real cheap.

From there we returned to the place where I had met my friends a few days prior where we ice creamed and had a coke with Michael's family and then headed off for a stroll round the shops.  I was on a mission to find a particular silk shop but realised I was wasting, not only my time, but everyone elses as well and gave up.  Some of the hand made quality silk items are divine and I was very tempted to buy something traditional until the brain clicked in to sense mode.  The sights neverr fail to amuse.

Modelling on the street.                       Feather dusters

What can I say?

Giving up on the silk idea I returned to the hotel to charge all the bits and pieces that seem to constantly run out of juice.  I have just realised that the fone runs out of juice because it is constantly looking for reception that is not there and I think that is the thing that also uses up my money as well, so from now on I switch off when not in use..  Reception in Lao especially and also to a lesser extent in Hanoi was very patchy so it keeps trying to find a station.  Yesterday in Hanoi I happened uppn a really fast connection round near the lake and for the first time in quite a while managed to download some pics.  Yay.

Refreshed and with a second wind I start walking to find where I need to go tomorrow to the collection point for the train trip, a gorgeous area behind the street running parallel to the lake.  I get a bit carried away and keep walking, past the Cathedral and then realise I am on the right track for a restauarnt I want to try.

   

  

Keep walking Helen.  In the meantime the others have been in touch and we agree to all meet at the restauarant.  Koto is the place we were going to, a place on a similar bent to Makphet in Vientiane and Family in Phnom Penh which are run by ex street kids who are now learning to cook, wait and manage a business.  I like the idea that my dollar will go towards helping some one that may have missed out on other opportunities and just needs a good break.  Even though I had heard that the restaurant was great my expectations were not massive, but I should have know better considering its excellent counterpart in Vientiane.

I soon get to the street and ask where the restaurant is only to be told that it has moved, "but there are lots of other restaurants at the other end of the street", so I go in search.  I ask again and get told to turn around and there in front of me is Koto.  The others arrive soon after me and the explorataion begins.  We decide to order a different meal each and share so we can all taste each one.  Very hard to pick the best and I keep changing my mind as each was superb.

Chiili Prawns, delictely spiced in a divine sauce, with steamed rice and veg.

Chicken with lemon grass and a stunning presentation

Braised Duck to die for, 

Beef inside bamboo

BBQ pork and noodles

Fish cakes to make our own spring rolls with

And finished off, for me, with French Apple Tart with cinamon ice cream

One of the memorable meals from Hanoi.  Cost including drinks about $20 each

But it needed walking off so I walked back to the hotel.  It turned out to be not so far as it only took 20 minutes to the edge of the lake.  I stopped counting after that as I kept getting sidetracked by the shops.