Ouch, my head hurts and I don’t even have a hangover. In fact, not one drop of alcohol passed my lips yesterday; ok that could have had something to do with an excessive evening the night prior, yet I arrived on my jet plan super sonically excited about visiting Vietnam.
Across the last year of travelling there’s certain signs or vibes you pick up when you arrive in a country – call it my 11 second rule. Generally, ease of entering and a quick and stress free transfer to your accommodation generally equates to a happy and harmonious stay.
I had booked a hostel in the Old Quarter of Ha Noi and the lovely people from the hostel emailed me to say they could arrange a transfer (obviously for a price) if I told them arrival time and date. Superb, email sent a couple of days before, sorted! I did get a bit jittery when they did not confirm it, so being ever so cautious I emailed again and asked them to confirm – nothing.
However, on arrival I was still hopeful and scanned the welcome boards at the airport. Nope, not a Wendy to be seen. Ok, tourist info beckoned and options assessed; get a metered taxi and it’ll take about an hour.
Off I trotted and inevitably found a man who’d take me to Hanoi, he, at this point did not know the address, but 350,000 dong. He took my bag and then wandered off up the road. Eh? All the taxis were right outside. Off he trooped up some stairs with my rucksack, WTF? I had no choice but to follow. Luckily, the taxi was there and it all looked kosher and he agreed to put the meter on. Now this was a bad idea, why? Well my 350,000 journey turned to 450,000 and I have since found out that we must have spent 15 mins circling the roads around my hostel. Grrrr, not a good start.
Not to worry, an early night, productive first morning sorting out the next leg of my trip, some city research conducted and off I went avec map in hand.
So, what did Ha Noi have in store for me? Noise, noise and more noise! Now I’ve been to Beijing and have experienced bikes, lots and lots of bikes. However, I’m not sure whether it’s because the roads here are so much narrower that the volume of bikes seemed to increased three fold? It is literally like taking your life into your own hands crossing a road. In the end, it’s best not to look both ways, but just walk out into the chaos or you’d be stood forever waiting to cross a road.
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What’s more, aside from the buzz of bikes screeching (and beeping) down the lanes, you are unable to walk on the pavement as they are chock-a-block with parked bikes (at least china had paths!). So, as if negotiating cross the road is not enough, you have to skirt along the side of the road dodging not only the traffic, but hawkers with their goods pooled up across their shoulders and baskets swaying too and fro.
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When there is a break in the parked bikes, the pavements are littered with small tables and those plastic stools that kids usually play with. These are restaurants, or pubs, in Hanoi. It doesn’t matter what time it is, there always seems to a constant flow of locals sat there, drinking beer and smoking from long bamboo pipes.
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The Old Quarter, where this madness seems to be concentrated is a wynd of narrow lanes, with tall skinny buildings perched on top. Remnants of French rule is obvious, as once beautiful colonial buildings sit crumbling, hidden by a maze of dubious looking wiring.
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The shopping streets are themed. So if you want shoes, you visit the shoe street, fabrics are found in silk lane, etc… etc… I wandered down; bamboo street, antique street, DIY street, souvenir street and even Christmas street! Small frontages hide long narrow caves of goodies, with vendors sat outside; yes, on the pavement on small chairs.
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To escape the chaos I headed out of the old quarter, to the lake and the Woman’s museum. At least at that end of town there were pedestrian crossings, not that the traffic took any notice of the green man! Hey ho.
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After an exhausting day I returned to the hostel, got myself a juice and perched on a seat in the street, just hoping that the city would seep into my veins. Just as I became accustomed to the beep, beep, beeping and the throttle of traffic the PA system kicked in telling everyone’s today’s news… There’s just no escape.
So, if you are after a relaxing city break, Ha Noi is not the place and it’s certainly not the place to visit with a hangover.