I wasn't sure what to expect stepping off the Air France flight to Hanoi. I had just spent a month in Thailand wrestling with its mass westernisation and trying to run against the tide of those flocking to full moon parties and to be honest I was fearing more of the same. I smugly thought that having spent a month in South East Asia already I would fit right in, that the culture shock would not hit me in any way shape or form. Travel tip number one: don't let preconceptions fool you. I was ready for a big dirty city filled with fake labelled clothes and stalls pedalling their wares to bemused tourists, and to be honest I checked with the desk at the airport to see how date changeable my tickets were, such was my trepidation. Of course I found the complete opposite. Hanoi is a beautiful dusty opal of French Colonial architecture peppered with the rich tradition and history of the Vietnamese people. Secreted down alleys and in corners of European style squares hide the ornately constructed temples crowned with intricate Buddhist and Taoist monuments. The sense of tranquillity was the main draw for me, as well as the seeming ease at fitting into the relaxed pace of life. The culture shock factor was present, but strangely reversed. I was shocked at the contrast between Bangkok and Hanoi, the stark difference between the two cultures that one would stereotypically assume to be similar. On my first day after checking into my lavish, but extremely cheap hotel I took my acclimatisation constitutional, finding my way about and resetting my mind to the culture that was to absorb me. The peace washed over me almost instantly, the smiles of local people melting the barrier I had built around me during my time in Thailand. I took a couple of hours out to complete my assimilation by finding the Temple of the Kneeling Elephants (11 Tran Hung Dao Street) where I took a rest and watched the way of life unfold before me. The locals here, gathered under trees and any other shaded spot that they could find, waved and gestured me over. My reluctance to do such things was brushed aside by the soothing surroundings and I sat down to be entertained by wizened wrinkled old men, exchanging smiles and nods instead of words and bringing home the whole meaning of travelling, the whole essence of being somewhere entirely out of the ordinary. I left my newfound friends after half an hour or so and entered the temple proper. I no longer incurred the curiosity of the locals, but turned into a ghostly observer, able to sit and soak in the dedication to their religion. The ubiquitous elephants of the temple kneel to protect the city from evil. The temple is one of four in Hanoi that match the points of the compass and protect it from each direction. Perhaps this is why I felt so safe. I started my assault on the City by Night with some food at Cho Dem night market, home to seafood that defies description. I had been advised to hit the Relax bar afterwards and inkeeping with my newfound inner calm thought this to be the appropriate spot. After a few hours of drinking and talking with the healthy mix of locals and ex-pats, the Relax started to kick off, a party atmosphere born of a good few Bia Hois, Vietnams practically free beer. The city was a welcome relief to me, one of the best gateway cities I have ever visited, giving me the impetus and hunger to get out and discover the rest of this beautiful country.