Down By The Bay

Halong Bay has become the international symbol of tourism in Vietnam. The limestone islands and turquoise blue waters are on every advertisement for flights, cruises, stop overs, etc. It was recognized as an UNESCO world heritage site in 1994, and again recognized in 2000 and 2004 by the international community for its beauty and historical significance.

Matt visited the bay back in July when his friends from the states were in town, so I decided to take advantage of our time in the north today to run over there myself.

I booked a tour that left early in the morning. As I was getting ready to go, someone in the hostel room had an alarm going off. Had I not already been awake, I would have been pissed at the 20 minutes he allowed it to beep before rousing to snooze it. I had an egg banh mi while I waited for the tour. When the guide arrived to get me, she led to me a bus filled with the other tourists signed up for the day long adventure.

There were a lot of fun people on the tour. I sat with a Portuguese family who regaled me with stories of working in healthcare in the UK. Ahead of me was a German kid who was traveling abroad for the first time to visit his brother that lived in Singapore. There were also a handful of Vietnamese, Hong Kong, and Australian tourists along for the adventure too.

The drive to Halong Bay is 3-4 hours from Hanoi. I slept for part of it and talked to the Portuguese family for part of it.

When we arrived our guide gave us a little briefing. The mythology of Halong Bay comes from a 1000 year old legend. According to the story, invaders from the north were threatening the tribes of Vietnam. The people prayed to the gods for help. In many Eastern traditions, God’s are depicted as dragons. The dragons sent down their children to protect Vietnam from the invasion. Fire and pearls rained down on the invaders and they eventually retreated to the lands from which they came. The dragon children, enchanted by its beauty, then settled in Halong Bay. “Halong” is Vietnamese for “descending dragons.”

Ironically (and I’m sure this stat is not faked by the government at all) there are 1,969 islands in the bay, which just so happens to be the same year that Ho Chi Minh died.

Our tour started in the Bay of Tonkin where we boarded the boat to sail up into Halong. Lunch was immediately served, and consistent of chicken, fish, shrimp, tofu, squid, fish balls, rice and cabbage. Dessert, as per usual in SE Asia, was fruit.

After eating, I went up above on the deck to get some pictures of the bay. The limestone islands quickly came into view and the contrast of green trees against the white rock and the teal water was stunning.

The people watching was pretty good too. There was German girl on board about my age. I overheard her say she had been living in Saigon since April. This week she was touring her family around Vietnam while they were here for a visit. Close behind her was a Danish jock type who had every intention of returning to Saigon with the German girl, despite her numerous attempts to brush him off. From taking off his shirt to “tan his abs,” to suggesting they take selfies together, he was laying it on thick, and she wasn’t having it.

Returning to the view, we were chugging along with the other tour boats. Much of the bay has been closed to the public so all of the day tour boats go to one area. It would have been fun to do an over night boat if we’d had more time, as they are permitted to go further into the bay. But around each island the lighting was a little different, and the view was constantly changing.

Unfortunately, like much of Asia, the pollution was disheartening. There was some trash floating near the islands, and some greasy looking patches that we sailed through. The Chinese are building up hotels and tourist parks in the city of Halong and the low pressure system this week was sucking all of the smog into the bay. But once we got tucked into a few coves, the views were quite nice. And in a way, seeing first hand the impact that mankind is having on nature feeds the fire to do more personally to preserve the natural wonder that is our planet.

The first stop on the tour was in one cove for kayaking. I joined the German kid in a tandem kayak. Wanting to take pictures, I sat in the front. I should have asked him if he knew how to steer a kayak before doing that, but it became quickly obvious that he didn’t.

“Okay,” I said as we struggled to go anywhere, “the front is the power the back is the steering.”

I started calling out which side I wanted him to paddle on and if he needed to row forwards or backwards.

“The more vertical you hold your paddle the more control you’ll have,” I explained.

“I didn’t want to splash you,” he said.

“It’s okay,” I laughed. “I don’t melt.”

Once he got the hang of it, we had a lot of fun paddling around for about 45 minutes (and I admittedly had fun playing teacher on the boat.) These views were my favorite part of the day. There were these little caves you could paddle through to more hidden coves. Tucked away from the big boats in the bay, it was so still and silent. Birds circled over head and the light dances on the green jungle leaves. It was absolutely tranquil.

We explored a few of the caves and coves before heading back to the boat. Our next stop was Heaven Palace Cave, the biggest cave in the bay. This portion of the tour was a walking tour. Our guide explained that the cave was discovered by a group of sailors trying to outrun a typhoon. When they arrived at this particular island, they saw monkeys climbing the hill. Following the primates’ lead, they found the monkeys were hiding in the giant cavern underground.

The inside of the cave was really more remarkable than I expected. A pinkish tan color, the rock formations were absolutely beautiful, as the cascading stalactites dripped down from the ceiling overhead. Occasionally, there were cracks overhead and little beams of sunlight would leak through casting beautiful shadows. I snapped tons of photos but my pictures really don’t do it justice.

On the way out, the German guy and I followed the signs for the grotto. I’m not sure if it was included in our tour or not, but no one stopped us. Again, the chasm underground was huge and nearly empty. It felt like an Indian Jones movie tracing around the slippery rock trails that led back into the cave.

Back on the boat, it was about an hour back to the harbor in Tonkin Bay. From there, we got back on the bus and began the 4 hour ride back to Hanoi. I slept most of the way, but construction along the road made the route take a little extra long.

It was late when I got back and Matt had already eaten, but he walked with me to get dinner. I decided to have Bun Cha one last time. Then we headed back to the hostel for one last roof top Mojito.

Next stop: Bangkok, to start the Thailand phase of our adventure.

Village People

For our second day of trekking, we did a hike through the Hmong Villages. More people had checked into the homestay so we were joined by a couple from Germany, a couple from the UK, and a couple from Spain.

The hike was similar to the one the day before. We walked down through the valley into the village. We hiked through terraces. There was a bamboo grove. There was mud. But I think the views of this hike were actually better. The Hmong village is over the ridge, so we got up on top of the terraces to look down into the valley.

We had a different guide today, and again, miscellaneous women joined us and provided a helping hand to those slipping in the mud. None of them (our guide included) had good enough English to really explain the differences between the tribes. We just got the same cliffnotes as the day before—everyone coexists and dresses a little different, but communicates with each other in Vietnamese.

The weather was nicer this day so we had the opportunity to see people working in the fields. Again, our guide couldn’t completely explain the process, but from what I could tell, they would pick a bunch of stalks of rice, bundle it together, and then shake it violently to knock the rice loose.

More than just rice grows in the valley. Our guide pointed out fresh ginger and indigo plants, along with a few others (like marijuana.)

The only downside to the hike was this damn blister on my leg (from the burn on the motorbike last week.) It’s at an awkward angle on my calf to reach, but Matt’s been helping me bandage it and keep it covered with antiseptic cream. This was an especially good thing today. At one point in the mud I slipped and slammed it against a rock. It hurt like hell. To complicate matters, we had to cross a fairly deep and torrid river a little ways up.

I really didn’t want to get it wet, so I took off my shoes and hiked up my pants. When I did, our guide gasped in horror at the bandage. She found me a bamboo stick to walk with and made it her personal mission to help me keep it out of the water. We were basically successful, although the bandage was already pretty soaked from my sweat.

I limped along for the rest of the hike, acutely aware of the wound every time I put weight on that leg. Fortunately, when we stopped for the ladies to hassle us to buy their wares, Matt drifted to the back of the group and I looked injured enough they didn’t bother us.

We stopped for lunch at a similar grass hut restaurant similar to the one from the day before. The food tasted just as good, and the view was just as spectacular.

The hike back took us through the Hmong village. Surprisingly, there were a fair amount of motor bikes cruising up and down the steep trails.

“Must be rush hour,” I joked.

When we got back to the hostel, everyone was pretty exhausted. We took turns showering and then re-dousing ourselves in bug spray. I broke down and had Matt help me shave around my blister so we could get the bandage to stick better.

We again had a family style dinner prepared by our host family, and we all agreed this one was better than the night before. The highlight was a lemon grass chicken, home made spring rolls, and sautéed morning glory. We played a few rounds of cards and shared a bottle of rice wine. It was one of the friendliest groups of travelers I’ve ever met.

It was a great night’s sleep, marred only by some blood sucking beetle biting my neck in the night.

In the morning, we had banana pancakes in the garden. An Irish girl had checked in last night and I chatted with her about her plans to move to Vietnam and teach English.

When it was time to leave, we shared a taxi back to the bus station with the couple from Spain. Seeing the dirt road in the daylight, it wasn’t as harrowing as it had felt at night. There were still moments it felt like we’d high center, and moments our driver seemed to following and passing other cars a bit closely, but we made it all safe and sound.

Boarding the bus was a typical cluster as anything involving a line tends to be in Asia. But as Matt pointed out, I shouldn’t complain because we got beds in the back and they were actually longer so we fit more comfortably in them.

When we arrived back in Hanoi, we dropped our bags at the hostel and headed out for dinner.

Once again, the food was amazing. Matt took me to a restaurant he discovered back in July. They only serve one dish, called Cha Ca. It is a national specialty from Hanoi. This restaurant cooks it on a skillet at your table. It is made of boneless “mud fish” sautéed with morning glory, sage, green onions, and other spices. It is then served over rice noodles, with basil leaves, shredded bean sprouts, spicy fish sauce, and crushed peanuts. It tasted amazing! It was the most complicated mix of flavors, from sweet, bitter, and salty all in one. Definitely (another) one of my favorite meals.

Back at the hostel, we got drinks from the bar and climbed up to the roof. In the silence above the busy streets of Hanoi, we talked about the highlights of Vietnam, reminisced about passed trips and missing Prague, and made plans for future trips to other continents. The truth is, there are days that I love Vietnam, and days that I want to scream (and days that I do scream.) But I am so very grateful to have shared the experience with Matt, both for the fun memories and having someone to scream with.

A little buzzed off mojitos, we went to bed around midnight. Next adventure: Halong Bay.

Rice Terraced Fields and Bamboo Forests

Sapa is a town in the north of Vietnam. When people picture cone shaped hats, rice terraces valleys, and other Vietnam cliches, they are picturing this part of Vietnam. Just 15 miles from the Chinese border, the region is home to many ethnic tribes that still live off of agriculture and maintain their traditional dress, values, and culture.

This was a region of Vietnam we’d been saving for after the heat of summer. Matt found a homestay online and we booked a few days living with a family.

The bus from Hanoi was the most uncomfortable bus ride of my two year travel career. The seats were more like reclined beds, but I was too tall for mine so my knees were jammed up against the seat ahead of me (if you were 5’5”, it was probably really comfortable.)

When we arrived, Matt texted the family that we’d grab dinner in the city center and be ready to be picked up at 10:00. The taxi showed up at the restaurant at 9:40.

“Whenever you want to be on time, they’re not, and when you assume they’ll be late, they’re early,” Matt joked.

The taxi ride was a bit dodgy, one of those windy dirt roads we were glad it was dark for. On more than one occasion, we drove through a little stream that seemed like it would high center our little sedan.

When we made it, a woman with a flashlight was standing at the end of a long driveway.

“Oh,” she said, aswe got out of the taxi. “We thought there was only one of you.”

Matt pulled out the confirmation email and assured her there were two. It was raining slightly and the muddy driveway gave me slight PTSD from the hike last weekend.

When we got checked in, the girl leading us took us upstairs to the loft of the barn. There were a few other people sleeping on mattresses on the floor, each surrounded by a blue mosquito net. She showed us our mattresses, gave us linens and nets to hang, and then went downstairs.

Sapa is the first place we’ve visited that is in a malaria endemic zone. Unfortunately, it’s in an endemic zone for like everything. Malaria is a parasite that causes your red blood cells to rupture and your tissues to become oxygen deprived. Dengue fever is a virus that causes your bones to swell. JE is a virus that causes your brain to swell, resulting in coma. All of these diseases are relatively rare (and rarely fatal) but all of them are carried by mosquitos and found in Sapa.

So we hung our nets over our beds. I took a shower and blogged a little. Matt passed out fast on the firm mattress.

This morning was as confusing as Vietnam gets. Roosters crowing woke us up nice and early. There was a sign by the entrance that breakfast was served between 7:30 and 9:30. We were out in the garden at 7:30. There was no breakfast to be seen.

But what was to be seen was the amazing view. The foggy rice terraced valley below was unreal! All around were endless rows of rice, gently dancing in the breeze. It was so lush and so green and so mesmerizing. The serenity of it all seemed to freeze time.

We enjoyed the view in silence, assuming breakfast would soon be served. We overheard a Japanese family and a Malaysian family talking in English and gathered that they had gone to the kitchen to order their food. Matt got fried rice with eggs and a coffee. I got banana pancakes with green tea. The food was really good, but the drinks came out almost a half an hour later.

At that point, we started thinking about what we’d do for the day. Hiking is the main attraction in Sapa. The hostel had several options of guided treks, ranging from easy day trips to weeklong excursions. We choose the bamboo forest for our first adventure.

“What time you want to go?” The girl who had checked us in asked.

“Maybe 10:30,” I said, giving us half an hour to get changed and psyched.

We agreed.

Like usual, 10:30 came and went. We had learned that Zizi, the owner of the homestay was to be our guide. Around 11:00, the girl who had checked us in asked why we hadn’t left yet. We told her we didn’t know where our guide was. She found Zizi and Zizi said we didn’t look ready.

“You are going hiking in jeans?” The girl asked.

“They are the only pants we have,” I said.

“I think shorts will be better,” she said. “It’s very muddy.”

We went and put on shorts.

“Are the mosquitos bad?” Matt asked.

“Yes very bad,” she said. “For me is okay but many tourists get bites.”

We went and put our jeans back on.

They brought out several pairs of rubber rain boots for us to try on. None of them fit me but Matt found a pair. Ready as we were going to be, we set off.

We immediately came to a river crossing, not 5 minutes from Zizi’s house. It was obvious that my tennis shoes were not going to be adequate to wade through this kind of water all day. So, I went back to the house to retrieve my sandals and figured I could switch between the shoes as we went.

Zizi told us that first river crossing was the worst of them, so we left my sandals with her friend. We continued on into the village. It was totally surreal to see the simple layout of the town. Handmade huts were scattered through the valley, most made from bamboo, sheet metal, and paver bricks.

There were kids everywhere. From tending the rice fields to building homes to selling wares, kids are clearly an integral part of the economy. Zizi showed us a few of the schools in the valley. Today was Sunday, so the kids weren’t in school. The kids that weren’t working were playing games like marbles and pick up sticks.

The tribes all coexist in the area and the kids all go to school together where they learn in Vietnamese so they can communicate with people from the other tribes. Each tribe dresses a little different. Zizi’s tribe wears very bright colors with elaborate bead work. Another tribe had fancy red head dresses. Yet another wears predominantly black clothing.

We crossed a few rope suspension bridges over the river roaring below. Zizi had us stop frequently to take pictures. The views were just unreal. The low hanging fog, the endless green rows of rice, the rolling hills, the cascading waterfalls; it was like something out of a dream.

The trail started to get muddier as we left the town and began traversing into the rice terraces. I had momentary flashes of PTSD from last week’s hike.

“This is my chance,” I told Matt, “to get back on the horse and face Mother Nature again.”

And to be fair, despite the mud, this hike did not even compare to last weekend. This was a fun and enjoyable slosh through mud. There were a few slippery and steep downhill sections, but nothing dangerous. A few women from the village joined us as we walked. The one lady (named Ba) would take my hand whenever she thought it was too slippery. I wasn’t one to reject the help, and there were a few times she kept me on my feet.

When we reached the bamboo grove, it got even muddier, but I thought more fun. The bamboo grew tight together, and we had to push and bend our way through it, while sliding though the mud. Bamboo is strong. On more than one occasion I lost my balance and fell with my full body weight on the twiggiest of trees. It would bend significantly, but it would also snap me back upright immediately.

When we exited the bamboo, we reached a waterfall. The ladies who’d been escorting us went over to wash their shoes in the waterfall. Zizi suggested that we shouldn’t because it was too slippery if we didn’t know where to walk. So we sat and took in the view. A young boy passed by herding a group of goats down the hill.

And looking around, the views just kept getting better.

When we reached the bottom of the waterfall, things got a little awkward.

“The women are going to go back to the village now,” Zizi said. “Maybe you want to buy something from them and thank them for their help.”

They then started pulling scarfs, placemats, purses, and wallets out of their baskets. Some of them were really nice, but Matt and I knew we’d never use them.

We attempted to haggle but apparently we were too cheap. I suggested we didn’t need anything.

“I’d gladly tip them for their help,” Matt said, “I just don’t need to buy anything.”

We suggested this, and they were quite insulted. “They want you to have something.”

In the end, we each bought a scarf. They through in two friendship bracelets, and then the two women left and we continued on our hike.

Zizi took us to the base of the waterfall and told us it was safe to swim. Between my oozing blister on my leg and the overcast sky, we decided to pass.

We stopped for lunch at a little grass hut. Lunch was included as part of the hike, but we had to buy our own beer. Matt got fried rice and I got fried noodles with chicken. It was honestly some of the best fried noodles I’ve had.

The “restaurant” was clearly a happening spot in Sapa. A group of women from the tribe with the red bonnets were sitting on some rocks, breast feeding babies. A number of goat herds were bringing their flocks down to cross the stream. Children were roaming around trying to sell bracelets. Other people were eating lunch and having a beer.

“This is an absolutely perfect day,” I told Matt as we ate lunch.

On the walk back to the house, it started to rain. Zizi had an umbrella but Matt and I just walked in the rain. We saw several water buffalo grazing as we made our way back.

One of the last stops we made really struck me. It was at a museum dedicated to the languages and cultures of the tribes in the valley. It was just one room, with maybe 5 or 6 exhibits.

“How cool,” I said to Matt, “to be such a small ethnic group of people and have the forethought to preserve this for the future.”

When we got back, we were surprised to find that the river we had crossed earlier was now being used as a “bike wash” for motorbikes. With all the mud around it seemed like a fools errand, but I’m sure it keeps the bike in nicer shape. At the same time, it does explain the lack of clean water (the same stream being used for gardening, plumbing, and bike washing.)

We got back and changed out of our muddy clothes. Applying the first of what would be several layers of bug spray, we went out to the garden to read and blog.

As other travelers drifted in to inquire about a room, we started chatting with some others. We played a few card games into the evening, punctuated by a nice home cooked dinner.

To echo my sentiments from earlier, it was an absolutely perfect day!

Hanoi

My plan was to get up early and do some sightseeing before Matt got up. Unfortunately, the hostel was pretty loud last night, so I over slept a bit and he beat me up.

We grabbed breakfast and then he stayed at the hostel to shower while I went out to explore.

My first stop was Hoa Lo Prison, known to many American’s during the war as “the Hanoi Hilton.” This was the infamous prison that held such POWs as John McCain during the war.

The museum presented some interesting history of Vietnam and Hanoi, specially in relation to the period of French colonialism. Modern day Hanoi was built by the French on the land that once made up the Phu Khanh village. The prison was built by the French in 1896 and was used to detain rebels and political prisoners that rose up against the French. Later, when Vietnam was split between a communist north and democratic south, the north used the prison to detain prisoners who rose up against the party. During the war, it was used for POWs captured by the north.

There were a few haunting moments. The isolation cells were ridiculously small, as were the ankle locks used to keep prisoners in a sitting position. There was a large almond tree with stories of how the almond bark was used to treat basically any and all injuries in the prison. There was also an exhibit on how a group of prisoners escaped through the sewer, which was also incredibly tiny.

On the flip side, there were parts of the museum that were oddly vague. Much of the “War of American Aggression” was glossed over. John McCain’s flight suit from when he was captured is on display (a gift from the late senator to Vietnam). There were also photos of the prisoners having a festive Christmas party, that seemed a bit out of place.

It’s been a strange experience being in Vietnam for John McCain’s passing. The day he died nearly all of my students asked me about him and had kind things to say about the senator. The government has lit lanterns and floated flowers at the site he was shot down. He’s a national hero for both countries.

After leaving the museum, I went back to meet Matt. We stopped at a pharmacy to get some more bandages for my leg, and then took a taxi to the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum.

The Mausoleum looked like something plucked from the DC mall. It was heavily guarded; you couldn’t get closer than a football field away from it. Matt joked it looks like it was modeled after the Lincoln Memorial. There are only certain hours the building is open for the public to pay respects to the late founding father, and today was not an open day. I think we saw some sort of guard changing ceremony, but it was done with little fanfare.

There were a few other government buildings, such as the presidential palace and administrative offices around the mausoleum too. Vietnam definitely goes all out on its construction of government offices. The most beautiful buildings are always government related.

We next went to check out the Citadel, an old fortress built by 16th century emperors. We aren’t entirely clear who the emperors are. The Indochina peninsula (modern day Vietnam, Cambodia, and Laos) was ruled by the mongols, the Chinese, and the French over the course of a thousand years. Prior to that, it was tribal with no central government. Either way, the Citadel was a beautiful fortress.

Built much like the the forbidden city in Beijing, it was a series of gates and open gardens. During the war, the government actually built a headquarters office inside the Citadel, with attempts to disguise it as part of the relic. It was in this building that the generals devised their plans for the war. On the walls, you can view their maps and plans to capture Saigon.

Just outside the Citadel, we had a weird experience. A few women, selling fruit approached us. They had baskets of fruit suspended from a wooden beam over their shoulders. We declined their selection of mango and pineapple. The one woman then put the beam onto my shoulder and her hat on my head. The other lady did the same to Matt and then offered to take our photo. Matt gave them his phone and they snapped a few pictures.

Once we gave them back the baskets, they assumed we’d changed our mind on the fruit and probably wanted some now. When we declined again, they asked for some money for the photo. Again, we declined and walked away.

We called a taxi back to the hostel. He got us most of the way there and then insisted that we were at the destination. We showed him on google that we weren’t (we even showed him in the Grab app that we weren’t) but he couldn’t seem to understand that there were two streets with the same name. We argued for a few minutes and finally got out to walk.

We walked back, grabbing bun cha for lunch. When we got back to the hostel, it was time to go catch the bus to Sapa.

The Second Annual Autumn Adventure Begins

We left Saigon today to start a big adventure around Southeast Asia. While Matt and I often discussed having a big adventure before leaving Vietnam, we didn’t intend a repeat performance. And while neither our budget nor our timeline is as ambitious as last year, this trip does coincide with our Balkans adventure one year ago.

Our flight out of Saigon was early afternoon. We ran a few errands separately in the morning. I needed to get some antiseptic cream for the blisters on my leg, as well as some travel sized toiletries. I also needed a last banh mi to remember Saigon until next month. Matt helped me bandage my leg when I got home, and then we headed to the airport.

We took advantage of Matt’s lounge access to have a complimentary lunch of steamed buns. I blogged and we laughed at some memories of last year’s Balkan adventure.

We never heard the boarding call for our flight, so we were surprised when the board suddenly displayed “Last Call” in bright red letters. Thanks to the inefficient boarding procedure of loading everyone onto a bus and driving them out to the airplane, we had no need to rush. I realize I’ve become a bit impatient and pushy living in Asia (not willing to be cut in line or pushed out of the way) so I through my share of elbows to get onto the plane. Matt was calmer, and boarded a few people behind me in line.

Once we were seated, we joked about how ridiculous it is that Vietnamese airlines won’t let you listen to music during boarding or take off.

“We definitely stopped that like 5 years ago,” Matt said. “Why haven’t they figured out that music doesn’t affect the plane yet?”

“We stopped that more like 10 years ago,” I said. “I read once that the reason phones are forbidden on planes is because it would be annoying to listen to someone’s phone conversation for the whole flight.”

Inevitably (because it’s Saigon) it rained and we were a bit delayed taking off. Matt slept most of the flight while I read some of the book I’ve been working on since my flight over here and watched a movie I had downloaded on Netflix. Vietnam is by no means a small country, being long and skinny like the east coast of the US. But we still made good time.

From the airport, we ordered a taxi for the 45 minute commute into Hanoi. The taxi driver kept getting phone calls and sending text messages. Matt gritted his teeth as we drifted across 4 lanes of the highway while he sent a text. For some reason, it didn’t phase me.

“It can’t be anymore dangerous than any of our grab bike rides in the last year,” I pointed out. “In fact, our odds of survival are way higher in this thing than on a bike.”

Once we were off the highway, the roads were narrower and the driver had to keep both hands on the wheel. Motorbikes in general seemed less popular here than Saigon. Traffic was definitely less congested. Those who did ride motorbikes didn’t seem to wear helmets, at least not with the frequency of the South.

We got to our hostel and checked in. After stowing our bags, we decided we were pretty hungry and went to get an early dinner.

Bun Cha is a specialty of northern Vietnam. It became world famous when Obama ate it and complimented the dish during his presidential visit here. Essentially, it is pork based broth, with carrots, tarot root, pork meat, and rice noodles. Fried spring rolls are cut up and added to it when the soup is all mixed together. It was solidly one of my favorite meals in Vietnam. We washed it down with a glass of the restaurant’s home made rice whiskey, which was a rice liquor flavored with fermented apricots.

“I wish we’d eaten more of this kind of food in Saigon,” Matt lamented. He’s been to Hanoi three times previously and discovered this on his last visit in July.

After dinner, we were a little torn on what to do. We are only in Hanoi for tonight, so I didn’t want to waste it. At the same time, it was nearly dark, and I didn’t want to rush everything just to see another city.

“What have you not done?” I asked Matt.

“There’s this Harry Potter cafe I wanted to check out last time I was here. It’s just around the corner,” he said.

“Let’s do it!” I’ve admittedly never read nor watched Harry Potter, but a themed cafe is always a good idea.

And this one was pretty cool. In the front room there were costume pieces to take photos dressed as a Hogwarts attendee. There was also a bar to order drinks for take away. In the back room there was space for sitting, with a mural of Diagon Alley and framed photos of the cast of Harry Potter (all in character.)

“I’ve been to more Harry Potter themed events outside of the US than in the US,” I joked. In Scotland I visited the street that inspired Diagon Alley, I walked through the graveyard where JK Rowling found the names for her beloved characters, and I ate dinner at the cafe where she wrote her award winning series. Then, last month, the castle at the Buddhist amusement park was Harry Potter themed (because nothing goes together like Wizardry and Buddhism in an amusement park.)

“Yeah this place is definitely not approved by Warner Brothers,” Matt joked.

I had an alcoholic butter beer and Matt had a Goblet of Fire cocktail. I didn’t try Matt’s (which was made with run, orange juice, and cherries) but mine was great. It was beer and cream soda, whipping cream, and butterscotch.

The name of the bar was Always. “Is that significant?” I asked Matt. He explained that it was.

After our drinks we went to walk around the lake in town. While Hanoi didn’t feel that much different from Saigon (less traffic perhaps) when we got to the park, it did feel different. There were street performers dancing and playing live music. There were kids roller skating. People were going for walks or sitting on benches with friends and talking.

“We don’t really have public parks like this in Saigon,” Matt pointed out the contrast.

“Or if we do, it’s too hot to use them,” I added, remember a few of the parks I’d visited back in March when I first got here. “Plus the rainy season makes it hard to be outside in the afternoon.”

We made a lap around the lake, occasionally getting distracted by street markets down the side streets. On a few occasions, we were approached by vendors and hawkers. I feel a little bad about the stone-cold “get out of my way” face that I’ve developed, but Matt was approached way more than I was.

At one point, as we were weaving through a side street, a man on motorbike road up alongside Matt.

“You want motorbike ride?” He asked

“No thank you,” Matt said.

“You want marijuana?” The man asked.

Again Matt declined.

“You want girl. She give you happy ending?”

Matt declined this offer as well, but it was the first of many to offer these three services to him. It was always in the same order; first the ride, then the drugs, then the sex.

“They escalate to close the deal,” Matt said.

After we lapped the lake, we went to walk around the pedestrian area. The pedestrian area in Saigon (called “Bui Vien”) is definitely more wild than Hanoi. On Bui Vien, you can buy any flavor of drugs you want, you can find home made moonshine, you can find lady boys, you can find cheap beer…you name the vice you can find it. While this was more tame, it was more intense. Restaurant workers would grab you and pull you towards their restaurant. They’d create an all out blockade with both arms out to their sides. Again my “out of my way” face must be pretty good because I only got jostled a few times, but we saw lots of defenseless tourists (even older people in their 50s and 60s) being dragged around and pushed around.

Fresh smoothies have been a highlight of living in Vietnam, and most days we drink 2. To be honest, I think this high fiber intake has helped with a lot of my stomach issues here. With most tourist attractions closed, we decided to go find a smoothie stand.

The one we found was really cool. They had a pretty creative menu, with such unusual ingredients as bergamot and more western flavors like peach. Matt got one called “Mat Mat” which had apple, kiwi, lemon, and mint. I got an “Amazing Mango” with orange, peach, mango, and strawberry.

Surprisingly, the police were blocking off streets everywhere we went in town. It seemed like the entire old quarter was being turned into a pedestrian zone. They were even enforcing rules for people to walk their motorbikes.

“Saigon could never pull this off,” I joked. But it made for a really nice evening to walk around.

We checked out the night market with fake brand name clothes and the usual market trinkets. The classic tourist purchase in Vietnam is a banana outfit, which is a button up shirt and shorts made of light weight material and covered in a floral banana print.

Being a bit tired from the early morning, we decided to go back to the hostel and call it an early night. Before going to sleep, we read a little about our bus transfer tomorrow and the family we are going to be staying with up north. It may be a little more adventure than we bargained for, but a homestay seems like a cool way to experience the north.

I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.