After the short flight we arrived in Hanoi with dampened spirits which weren't helped by the grey, cloudy weather and low temperatures. We'd always known that northern Vietnam would be cool at this time of year but we had hoped for at least a little sun. And less traffic. I don't think anything can prepare you for the mayhem that is the road system in this city. Every lane is awash with speeding scooters and this is especially true in the Old Quarter where our hotel was. This square kilometre of the city, which was walled up behind ramparts until the middle of the 19th Century, is a hectic maze of narrow roads jammed with cars, scooters and pedestrians. The pavements have been colonised by streets vendors and are used as off road parking by the scooter heads. This forces pedestrians into the road and as newcomers you are permanently alert to the possibility of being hit from in front, behind, practically every angle really.
Overwhelming as this all was I didn't have time to either worry or acclimatise as we were soon back on the road and heading further into North Vietnam and Ha Long bay. Those who've been paying close attention so far will remember my aversion to boats and this excursion was going to be 'kill or cure'. A day and a night on a converted junk floating off shore in the South China Sea. I'd always had it in my head that if I didn't like the look of the boat I'd just arrange a hotel in the harbour town and wait for everyone else to come back but before I even had a chance to think about it I was kitted out in a life jacket and on board the small tender boat taking us to the junk that would be our floating hotel for the next two days. Luckily the harbour was very protected and calm so there was none of the rocking about that I find so scary. And as we steamed out of the harbour into the bay itself there just wasn't time to be anxious. The sight before us was totally entrancing.
Heading out into the sea all we could see ahead was what looked like a huge wall of green rock that seemed to block our path. As we floated closer the wall resolved itself into several large jags of limestone cliffs. Individual islands which were thought to only number around two thousand until modern technology discovered another three thousand further up the coast. So not many really. Although we didn't have the clear blue skies shown in all the posters and postcards of this famous place, I thought the misty skies added to the air of mystery that pervaded the place. As our boat negotiated it's way through the many islands dotted about it was easy to imagine this as a place of fantasy and fairytale and that the myth of a celestial dragon spitting out chunks of mountain to stop an invading fleet just might be true. After the war was over the dragon decided to stay, hence the name Ha Long (dragon descending) and the claims of sea monster sightings.
After a fabulous lunch on board we were taken by tender to a grotto of caves with some impressively huge caverns, even if they were busy with other photo-snapping tourists. Packed with stalactites and stalagmites there was also a rocky outcrop shaped like a turtle (one of the four animals considered lucky by Buddhists). Hence his rather shiny nose from lucky rubbing. Another rock, proving a photographic favourite, was the rather surprising pink-hued phallus. There's no escaping my job sometimes. I didn't see if it was shiny as well.
As most of us returned to the boat, Liz and Nicola headed off in a kayak to do some more exploring. The rest of the afternoon was quiet time - most of us read, wrote or simply admired the scenery from our anchored position in a small bay with occasional visits from a group of about 8 swooping sea eagles. As dusk fell, the light of other nearby boats started to twinkle in the evening light and darkness swallowed up the mountains curved around us. A dinner of sea food treats was delicious and after a few glasses of wine, the karaoke machine was switched on and several famous tunes cruelly murdered. Our cabins eventually beckoned but despite being exhausted the noisy, vibrating throb of the generator immediately underneath us kept me awake for most of the night.
Breakfast was taken as we sailed back to port and so ended the new highlight of the trip so far. Easily on a par with the elephants. We were soon thrown back into the hectic whirlpool of Hanoi life where I found I had adjusted to the risky life of a pedestrian. You just had to be nonchalant about the speeding scooters and laden bikes and walk along roads or cross them with a confident certainty that you wouldn't get hit. Watching the vehicle action at a crossing you could see that the local scooter drivers had some sort of sixth scooter sense that allowed them to weave amongst each other so that traffic could move in all directions at the junction without anyone getting hit. The Hanoi population would make a great bike display team. Many others in the group were still really hesitant about moving around in the traffic and I often found myself alone on one side of the road as the rest hovered on the opposite pavement.
There was a break in the motorised mayhem when we headed off to a performance at the Water Puppet Theatre. Water puppetry is the Vietnamese contribution to the world of marionettes and was originally created out on the flooded paddy fields around the country's Red River delta. Here in Hanoi where there are no paddy fields the show takes place in a theatre where a pool of water acts as the stage. Hidden behind the bamboo curtains that surround the pool are the puppeteers, standing waist deep in the water, and manipulating the puppets with long poles hidden beneath the surface of the water. The hour long show included stories about local myths, depictions of rural life and versions of traditional dances. It's all a bit ridiculous while being rather endearing at the same time. My favourite part was the somersaulting swimming babies, the off spring of a dragon and Phoenix who had mated live on stage! You were allowed to take photos but this meant flashbulbs were popping every few seconds which rather ruined the atmosphere. I also had to ask the person in front of me to stop holding her camera high in the air to take pictures as she was completely blocking my view. Sometimes the touristy nature of a place can be dispiriting even when you know you're a tourist yourself.
The following day was devoted to exploring the world of Ho Chi Minh. Born in 1890 as Nguyen Sinh Cung, Ho is seen as the father of modern Vietnam although he preferred to be known by the affectionate sobriquet, Uncle Ho. From early on Ho was a committed communist who opposed the colonial control of his native country and risked arrest and exile to eventually lead the struggle for the reunification of North and South Vietnam. He died before this wish was finally achieved but he's hero-worshipped by the majority of Vietnamese for his dedication to the cause. My hazy grasp of this biography meant I was rather surprised during our visit to the Ho Chi Minh mausoleum. I thought it would just be another temple, built in tribute to the leader and full of statues and paeans to his achievements. But after being divested of our bags and cameras and practically marched into the building where sour faced soldiers told me off for talking I was confronted by the man himself. Despite expressly asking to be cremated on his death, his body was embalmed and preserved and he now resides in a glass coffin where the masses can file past him, gawking at his fresh looking corpse. While the visiting locals were clearly awed and emotional about this pilgrimage to their hero's last resting place, I was just unsettled. If the bearded fragile figure in the box is really the great Ho Chi Minh then it's sad that he hasn't been allowed to rest in peace but is subjected to daily scrutiny. He'd be spinning in his grave. If he had one. But as our little group left the building, the only subject of our hushed whispers was whether the body was genuine or an excellent wax work replica. Theories abound on the Internet and it's unlikely that the truth will ever be known but for those in awe of the man's memory I don't think the truth really matters.
The rest of the morning was used up in visiting the Presidential palace and Ho Chi Minh's much simpler cottage and stilt house behind it, before wandering around the Ho Chi Minh museum. I'm afraid the latter didn't hold my attention at all mostly because it seems to be designed for those who already know about every aspect of the man's life rather than those, like me, who need a good history lesson. So while my mind bypassed most of the exhibits I enjoyed people-watching - crowds of neatly attired school children huddled round each section while a large group of young military cadets took goofy pictures of each other posing next to various models. Kids and teenagers are the same the world over really.
More engaging was the Hoa Lo prison which was nicknamed the 'Hanoi Hilton' in the 60s by the American prisoners of war being held there. It was a satirical comment on both the harsh conditions they were being kept in and their brutal treatment at the hands of their gaolers. These prisoners were paraded on the TV to show the world how well they were being treated when that was far from true. US senator and Presidential nominee John McCain was held here after he was shot down over Hanoi. The museum in the prison includes access to some of the creepy isolation cells and also covers the period when anti-colonial protestors where incarcerated there by their French overlords. In chilling pride of place is the guillotine used to execute many of the prisoners.
Our final Hanoi sight was the Temple of Literature, a Confucian complex made up from interlocking courtyards and temple buildings. It was a haven of peace in the heart of noisy, restless Hanoi with some sweet turtle statues and the ceremonial hall where a large statue of the great man himself is still worshipped. This quiet corner offered a welcome break from the city's mania and a chance to gather ourselves before embarking on our second, and thankfully last, overnight train journey. The famed Reunification Express would be whisking us away from Hanoi and taking us further south to the Imperial city of Hue.
Still to come: Perfume rivers, more mausoleums and the bliss of a peaceful city.
Photos below: Hanoi street; beautiful Halong Bay; soldiers at Ho Chi Minh's tomb; Chinese writing at the temple of literature.
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