Va-va-vroom Vietnam: Part 1

They say you should come to Asia and experience the sights, smells and sounds. I don't think the latter should be plural because there's only one sound you hear in Vietnam.

Beep! Beeeeep! BEEEEP!

Every car. Every motorbike. Every second. Vietnam is where people come to die. Well, they don't actually come here TO die but once here they have to accept that there's a good chance they will. This is the land of seemingly more motorbikes than bodies; the country where crossing the road requires the will of a Gladiator and a prayer to every God you can think of before you take that decisive step off the pavement. Once you're walking across the road the best thing to do is just shut your eyes and keep moving, and if you hit the pavement on the other side you can open your eyes in surprise and relief.

There are crazy drivers all over Asia, I know. Mad traffic defines many other Asian cities and there may well be a good chance we go to one on this trip that makes Vietnamese roads look like a farm track in Staffordshire. But Hanoi is the first I've come across where drivers don't know the meaning of looking ahead, preferring instead to look in shops they pass whilst talking on their mobiles, shouting to people sitting on sidewalk about how good their pho is. Of course, I made the mistake of rubbing my eyes on a Hanoi street and mispositioned my contacts. Rendered partially blind, I did what any intelligent person would do and stopped still in the middle of the road and stared wide-eyed at the headlamps coming towards me. Clever. But never fear for Imran saved me Hollywood style. Not Bollywood - contrary to what Imran's hair might suggest - as there were no acrobatic jumps onto buildings and a chorus line dancing suggestively in the rain. I was lucky; shame I can't say the same for the two people I saw get hit by a bike (not fatally, thankfully) because the drivers weren't looking. And in true Vietnamese style, they yelled, they laughed and then they went on their merry way.

For here's the thing about Vietnam: if you make it out alive, it's just frickin' awesome.

After a calm and peaceful stop in lovely but strictly controlled and relatively characterless Singapore City, we hurtled head first into the noise, chaos and vibrancy of Hanoi. Exploring the north of the country we visited Sapa and Halong Bay before heading south to the middle of Vietnam. We spent a handful of days with our sister-in-law Duong's family in Danang and a couple in charming Hoi An; it was then time to hit the highlands of Dalat and finish in the madness of Saigon/Ho Chi Minh City.

The best thing about Vietnam was the availability of juices and smoothies nearly everywhere. Get in, son! The portions are far more stingy than in South America but hey, we're not complaining. In fact, we were usually smiling at the juice makers with big grins and rubbing our bellies whilst passionately crying "Yum yuuum!" until we found out the words mean "horny" in most of Vietnam. They must've thought we were into some real kinky stuff with pineapples and bananas.


At first we found it incredibly difficult to make ourselves understood despite the well-spoken English in a lot of places. Our attempts at Vietnamese were met with a lot of gleeful laughter and mimicking. They key was to speak English in their accent rather than to over-emphasise in our own accents, no matter how silly or borderline racist we felt. So 'sugar' became a loud 'soo-gaaah'; 'beach resort' became the snappy 'beat reezor' and 'massage' became the easily understood 'jiggy jiggy happy time mmmmm.'

As our airport taxi driver charged through the streets of Hanoi - beeping his horn even when the lane was empty - we saw a place that looked similar to India. Lots of green trees breaking up tin shack shops, ditches full of rubbish, throngs of people waiting at tiny bus stops and old ladies walking nonchalantly in the middle of the road. But as soon as we neared Hoan Kiem Lake and the famous Old Quarter - the heartbeat of Hanoi - a true Vietnamese identity began to emerge and put a real smile on our faces. Tiny, plastic baby stools on seemingly every street where people sat sipping the street beer Bia Hoi or slurping bowls of noodle soup (pho); carts full of pyramid-stacked baguettes (probably the most obvious French legacy left after colonialism); stalls of fruit in the middle of congested roads; cyclos, and female hawkers in their trademark conical hats carrying heavy baskets of goodies over their shoulders for people to buy. Motorbikes were not just zipping along the streets but were parked on every available space on narrow pavements, meaning pedestrians had to walk on the roads. Don't make the mistake that we did of thinking a clear bit of pavement is there for you to walk on: this is where the motorcyclists drive if they can't be bothered to stop behind the still cars or bikes in front of them! Red lights are just a suggestion - if they feel it's better to keep on going then they go right ahead.

We weren't in Hanoi at the best time of year and found it was a lot colder than we expected. We only packed one jumper each and found ourselves wearing this every day. Still, we accepted the fact that we're going to be in blazing heat for the rest of this trip and will inevitably find it too hot so we sucked it up. What was a bit harder to suck up was the cigarette smoke. Everyone seems to smoke here and their fumes combined with the traffic fumes makes for a horribly heady combination. I guess we're just so used to the ban in London now that we've forgotten what it's like to leave a bar or restaurant with your hair and clothes stinking.


What's great about Hanoi is that you see the stereotypical Asia you imagine. The best thing by far to do is to absorb every bit of the atmosphere and culture. Watch the people; talk to as many as can understand you and embrace their ways. That's what made Hanoi fun for us. What made it boring for us was visiting the recommended tourist sights: Ho Chi Minh's mausoleum and old house and a water puppet theatre show. Reading about Ho Chi Minh's life and what he did in Vietnam is far more fascinating than seeing his dead body (which, incidentally, we didn't even get to do as we rocked up in the afternoon to find out it's only open in the mornings - rookie mistake.) And as for the water puppet theatre show... well, we just didn't get it. Think Punch and Judy in a swimming pool. The puppet handlers are extremely skilful and the puppets themselves are intricate and wonderfully made. The story the show tells is quite interesting, too. But it feels like it's more for kids and the soothing traditional music combined with a jet lag hangover put us right to sleep.

It's the people that make Hanoi what it is. Whether visitors love them or hate them - and it's always one or the other - they make for entertaining viewing. The women trying to sell tourists stuff are really wily, quick and clever. Don't want to buy any fruit? - tough; the baskets are on your shoulders and the hats on your head before you can blink. Then they convince you you'd love a photo of this for which you obviously have to pay but they'll throw in a bag of pineapple slices anyway because they like you. Credit to them for being smart - we loved that about them and hey, we love pineapple!

The men in Hanoi weren't quite so nice, though. The ones that tried to sell us things were aggressive and their behaviour bordered on harassment. We didn't mind too much as we knew to expect this but I can imagine they'd be seriously annoying for less chilled-out people. They shouted at us if we walked away from them; belligerently asked "Why not?" when we said we didn't smoke after they'd offered us lighters. And they were sexist! I lost track of the number of times I said no to something only for them to continue hounding us until Imran made the final decision. This is Asia, for crying out loud - how could I forget that the man is the boss?! Even saying the word 'bra' in public here is shameful, let alone burning one in the style of those brazen, Western feminists with their terrible ideas.


But ultimately, Hanoi is exciting and full of personality. It's loud, it's gritty and it pulls you right into its way of life. It's brash but at the same time charming. It has so much going on if only you look beyond the obvious and deep into the nooks and crannies. We loved it.


Halong Bay is often on lists citing natural wonders of the world and it really is remarkable. It's 1500 sq km of blue jade waters flowing serenely around massive limestone rocks covered with lush greenery. Technically, they're not rocks but little islands and there are around 2000 of them. Visitors generally come here for one or two nights and stay on a boat; we were there for two which meant we also got to visit an area by Cat Ba National Park, a silent mass of water and caves away from the boat traffic in Halong Bay. There are islands which you can climb, such as Ti Top, for a scenic view of the bay from high up but it doesn't really add to the experience much. Similarly, Sung Sot Cave is full of marvellous rock formations in particularly entertaining shapes if you have as crazy a guide as we did, but it's not unmissable. The best thing about Halong Bay is the kayaking. Again, we weren't there at a time to witness sunny skies and be able to jump in warm waters but at least it was clear for the most part and the cooler temperatures made for better kayaking. It was so much fun to paddle through dark caves and come out the other side into another secluded mini bay, surrounded by tall rock and families of monkeys clambering over the islets. All we could hear were birds chirping and the water rippling beneath us as we glided across. Very peaceful; very beautiful. Despite the enormous numbers of boats in Halong Bay, it was surprisingly quiet and the boats actually added a lot of character to the visual scene due to their unique styles. There were, of course, party boats for the young backpackers but aside from the occasional burst of karaoke song in the distance, we didn't hear much.

I don't know what it is about cruises but we always seem to meet great people on them and they generally tend to be American! Travelling is always made more joyful an experience when you meet nice people. It gives you a better perspective of the world from the different views of the different people living in it and it teaches you about your own stereotypes and prejudices. I love the fact that, despite having American friends already who we think are awesome, we continue to meet more on our trip who defy that image of being lost in their own world with an arrogance of their own culture and an ignorance of other cultures; those who are intelligent and, quite frankly, admirable. I know the examples on Jerry Springer and the irritating muppets that are the Sex & The City girls aren't the best but there are some who think beyond their own world and are wised up to the shenanigans of their government.

I mentioned our crazy guide, right? His name was Man. Cue lots of unfunny jokes along the lines of: "Hey man, how's it going, Man? It's my main man, Man!" He loved it, though. On the drive from Hanoi to Halong Bay he told us lots of interesting facts. One: his mates don't like his singing and every time he partakes in some karaoke, there is silence at the end of his performance. Not a good sign. I know that from experience. However, he loved to sing (as everyone in Vietnam seems to!) and proceeded to give us a rendition of a traditional folk song. He wasn't half as bad as he made out. But in a culture where it's not good to be bad - unlike in ours - I could see why his friends weren't impressed and why he'd be better placed at a karaoke night with the Lakhas. Two: Vietnamese people (or, I suspect, just him) call the loo "The Happy Room." This is because when you need to use it your face is all scrunched up and tense but, when you've been, it's relaxed and happy. What an awesome dude - his Fun Facts are way better than mine!


Dinners on the boat consisted of feasts of deep-fried dishes. I could count on two fingers the things that weren't dripping in oil and those were the fruit and the water. We understood that this was their way of giving us the best of what they could offer and it was pretty tasty, but after three days we were completely done with drinking grease and needed to get back to our favourite juice bar in Hanoi! On the plus side, the brilliant bartender on the boat made us smoothies as often as we wanted and during one of our cooking classes we made delicious summer rolls - fresh rice paper rolls filled with lettuce, herbs, rice noodles, tofu or meat and strips of carrots and pineapple. Delicious. We also made some pork spring rolls but obviously didn't eat them. Imran had a natural knack for stuffing and rolling (ahem) but I felt very sorry for the people who ended up eating my monstrous creations.

We sailed by a floating fishing village on the day we went to Cat Ba. The people live, work and go to school on the water and their homes are beyond basic. They have barely a roof or walls but they do have the most important luxuries (and I'm not being sarcastic): generators so that they can have electricity and television. We kayaked around this picturesque and tranquil area but it was ruined by one thing: rubbish. It was actually quite disgraceful. This gorgeous natural wonder was littered with plastic bottles, bags, snack packs, fags and even shoes! I don't know if the culprits were more the tourists or the locals but going by what I witnessed during some careful watching, it's the locals and sub-21 year old Western lads who have the least regard for the environment. The captain of the boat that took us to Cat Ba had his very young son on board who threw the skewers from his lunchtime meat overboard as he finished each one. You've got to think he learned that from someone. It's a real shame and will become a big problem if something isn't done. While a lot of Asia might not give a monkeys about throwing litter anywhere, Halong Bay needs to literally clean up its act if it wants to retain its UNESCO privileges.

Another stop we made in this region was at a pearl farm. It was pretty cool to see how pearls are harvested and the sheer levels of perfection each pearl has to meet to be considered worthy. As expected, we were encouraged to buy some. The poor lady in the shop made the mistake of thinking Imran was anything but inappropriate and a joker. "Don't you want to give your wife a pearl necklace?" she asked sweetly.

Imran didn't flinch. "I always offer to give her a pearl necklace and she tells me to get lost!" he replied. The lady's face dropped.

"Oh, that's not nice," she said, turning to me. "If your husband wants to give you a pearl necklace you should let him. Any other lady would love to have one - you must be crazy to say no!"

She obviously doesn't know my husband.


Onwards with our journey!