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Part 63: 'Good morning Vietnam'....
It was surprisingly easy to obtain an online Visa for Vietnam a few days before I left. Some basic info and few clicks of a keyboard later, and there it was in my inbox, along with a signed letter from the immigration office for me to print out. All I had to do next was get some passport photos, then hand this in on arrival at the Noi Bai airport to get stamped.
My flight was a late night one to Hanoi and thought it best to pre book a ludicrously cheap hostel and cooked breakfast thrown in for a meagre £2 a night all in!! Not even bothering to read the reviews - it was good enough for me.
There is always a few moments of anxiety at airports as anyone who's reads my blog will be able to tell.
More so for the reason of unforeseen circumstances than anything, but in this instance there was nothing to report.
My 10.30pm flight to Hanoi was trouble free taking just over 3 hours - even if it was a little bumpier than usual.
Then on arrival at the airport, exactly as the email in poorly worded grammar instructed, I was to report to the immigration desk where there was yet another charge of $50 before I was issued with the visa.
I hadn't done a great deal of research at this stage about Hanoi or how to get to my hostel, nor checked its proximity to the airport, but how hard can it be. Well, as it happened, at nearly 3am in the morning - not as easy as I'd initially anticipated.
It was surprisingly quiet at the airport, with not many taxis, no train links and certainly no busses around at this hour.
But by chance the hostel I booked had a driver there waiting for another passenger, who hadn't turned up, so he offered to take me instead for $10. Talk about a bit of good fortune. Although despite my best efforts, he wasn't really interested in making any conversation all the way there.
The night porter was fast asleep on the reception floor and it took a few hard knocks on the door to finally wake him up to let me in - he didn't look best pleased either.
Looking around I think the hostel revealed why it was a meagre £2 an night - it certainly wasn't the nicest.
Making my way up 3 flights of steep stairs, I did my best to not wake any one up in the dorm, carefully tiptoeing around bags and clothing, towards my bottom bunk, then sinking into the surprisingly soft mattress. Just as my eyes were beginning to get really heavy, nature called and I desperately needed to go the bath room, but quickly realised there was no remote chance of that as it was overflowing with thesis and toilet paper! The smell was horrendous, and certainly a pretty disgusting sight. Oh the joys of £2 a night hostels - so, unfortunately for me it was a case of just holding it in and getting some sleep.
When I woke almost everyone in the dorm immediately introduced themselves. 3 dutch guys a couple of Germans and an English guy. The first impressions were good and we all joked about the state of the toilet, building an instant rapport - conversation, unlike the loo was flowing. Then between us we arranged to go out for lunch and a sightseeing day in Hanoi.
The hostels location was right in the heart of the old city and absolutely perfect for exploring - not that I had to worry about getting lost or anything, as Jack the young English guy took navigating into his own hands with a revolutionary app on his iPhone called 'triposo'
It basically didn't need wifi or 3G to work, using instead the phones inbuilt GPRS - (why didn't I know about this before)
Jack was a really switched on guy, especially since this was his first backpacking experience at the tender age of 19 - I liked him straight away. He displayed this real genuine likability mixed with a good amount of confidence.
Kai, one of the German's was a instant character too, although a tad neurotic worrying about everything from food poisoning to mosquitos, and more. And Martin one of the dutch guys appeared relaxed and friendly.
We headed out late morning just as it started to rain and the bustling streets were already full of people. I very much liked the look of Hanoi. For a start there did not appear to be any high rise skyscrapers or that many modern buildings come to think of it which is always an interesting sign.
It had a fascinating blend of Eastern and Western cultures with plenty of Chinese influence architecture from the 1970’s or 1980’s as well as old French designed structures from its colonial past.
It's Vietnams second largest city and capital, having been described as Southeast Asia’s ‘rising Star’ – you would never know of the damage that was incurred during the Vietnamese War as this place took a serious pounding back then.
The streets were a sight to behold. A constant stream of motorbikes, rickshaws and cars driving around in both directions made crossing the road a massive challenge.
Sometimes you just have to hold your breath, and go for it to make it the other side of the street. If you stand there tentatively waiting for a gap in the traffic, trust me you'll be waiting for a very long time.
Its far less challenging in Manila where the traffic is so dense it grinds to a stop, making crossing roads actually quite easy there.
Jack had it down to a tee, decisively stepping off the kerb and going for it, leading us with his iPhone held in front of him like a compass through the old quarter, with its narrow houses and bustling streets, passing scores of locals sitting on tiny stools near the edge of the roads eating street food freshly cooked on the kerb, till we reached a street with a train track through a narrow residential neighbourhood.
The houses here were so close to the tracks that people could easily get smacked if they didn't watch their step, or decide to stick their hands out the window at the wrong time - It was literately a mere inches from the front doors of peoples houses, not exactly looking like the safest arrangement, I can only imagine how many close calls there may have been over the years
As we walked over the tracks, friendly locals who met us with warm smiles were chopping vegetables right outside one moment, but a bell sounded and they all rushed in the next.
A strict looking signal box conductor quickly ushered us away from the track, moments before a train came hurtling through.
Then immediately after it passed, the people came back out again to carry on about their business as normal.
We wandered towards Ba Dinh Square which is a place packed with historical significance and monuments and home to several of Hanoi’s most historic sights. Ho Chi Minh’s Mausoleum, The house on stilts, Ho Chi Minh Museum, the Presidential Palace and the one pillar Pagoda. All a combination of French colonial, Russian and Vietnamese architecture - it was a pretty spectacular sight. The Mausoleum had huge queue's of people so we opted for the Ho Chi Minh museum instead.
This was a building designed to take the visitor through Ho Chi Minh's life and times, through a series of interesting and sometimes peculiar exhibits.
Outside in the square, photos of the presidential palace were strictly prohibited with stern guards making sure no one broke the rules. I did try a couple of sneaky shots but the eagle eyed guard spotted me straight away.
We walked towards one of the nearby lakes and sampled freshly made Pho. It's like a delicious aromatic soup with noodles, beef or chicken and so comforting, costing less than a pound! Then walked in a full loop back towards the old quarter in the direction of the hostel, arriving just in time for free beer on the rooftop terrace, included in the £2 a night fee. Thankfully the rancid toilet had been unblocked too.
I decided to take a nap after all that walking and sightseeing for it had only been less than 16 hours since leaving Manila.
Later that evening we headed to the busy center rammed full of backpackers, tourists and locals for yet more drinks plus to take in some of the nightlife.
Typical neon lights, bars and karaoke joints made it difficult to differentiate it from some other Asian capitals, although the small stools and street food on every corner lent it a slightly different feel than normal.
I do sometimes wonder about the backpackers that move from capital to capital and if they can actually tell the difference between the countries especially since many of them move in the typical backpacker enclaves, well at least based on conversations I've had with some of them anyway.
There is a trusty backpacker bar almost everywhere, but to be fair they usually are good for a laugh and drink games if nothing else.
Surprisingly refreshing and decent local bottled beers cost less than 25 pence in most bars, making getting drunk ludicrously cheap, which is another reason for backpackers on small budgets to head here.
We wandered around the lively streets for a while and found an Irish bar that screened live matches. Since the group were all football fans they were all up for watching some of the games. The dutch lads were watching the Ajax vs Feyenoord match, whilst Jack who happened to be a Norwich city fanatic persuaded us to watch his beloved team, who sadly for him got a real hiding. This after he spent the entire evening talking them up!
Still it didn't dampen his spirits to much as we all inevitably got drunk on Hanoi beer anyway. It was a good night, if not ended a tad prematurely by the early drinking laws, which is totally understandable - I cant imagine what it would be like in England if beer was that cheap and made readily available round the clock.
On the way home we were harassed by taxi drivers trying to take us to brothels which made for hilarious banter with the cabbies.
Every typical cliche was unashamedly used by them in trying to tempt us. But their attention was soon diverted by the scores of other drunken backpackers staggering home.
And I'm sure the cabbies were in for a commission filled night even if none of us (other than Jack) were tempted.
It was back to the hostel for some much needed rest. Not even 24 hours had passed since I'd arrived in Vietnam, but I had already seen more than enough here to suggest it was going to be a great next leg of my journey, and I couldn't wait to see more.....
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