Hanoi

The last days of our tour were quickly approaching. The itinerary for the remaining days went like this: fly from Hue to Hanoi; spend 1 night in Hanoi; travel about 3 hours to the west to a lovely, remote resort near Mai Chau; spend 2 nights at the resort; return to Hanoi for 1 night; travel about 3 hours to the east to Halong Bay; spend one night on a junk in the bay; return to Hanoi for 1 night.

After the relative orderliness and tranquility of Hue, Hanoi was absolute madness. Crossing the street was an even more terrifying experience than it had been in Saigon. Looking out at the motorbikes from the relative safety of our bus made my blood pressure rise to alarming levels. Hanoi was much too much of everything for me.

On our first evening, Fun led us into the heart of the action. It was late Friday afternoon, and we had been told that the streets would be closed to traffic at 7 PM. That sounded good in theory, but at the current moment there were people and motorbikes everywhere. We walked beside Hoan Kiem Lake trying to enjoy the view, but the crowds of tourists and locals were intense.

When the group members split up to explore the area, Walt and I found an empty space to sit on a low wall. Our intention was to do some people watching, but a very persistent woman selling touristy gift items had attached herself to me. I had already told her politely multiple times that I did not want to buy anything. Now she crouched at our feet offering each of the caps she had for sale one by one. She had about 20 of them so this took quite awhile. I would have bought one if I thought that this would stop her, but I sensed that if I bought something, her efforts would intensify. Finally the group came back, and we all followed Fun through the clogged streets.

Suddenly, Fun took a sharp turn into a very narrow, dimly lit alley. After a brief moment of incredulity, we all followed. At the end of the alley, she led us through a door and into a small room. A man and woman sat on a low stage.

The couple gave an amazing performance, The man played multiple instruments, and the melody of the songs they sang was haunting. This type of music, Hat Xam, was once performed on the streets by blind buskers. It was enjoyed by local working-class audiences until the late 1950's when communism deemed all art forms to be corrupting influences.

Our next stop was a pleasant coffee shop. Walt and I had been wanting to try egg coffee, and this was our opportunity. One of the baristas, with assistance from a group member, demonstrated how it is made. The coffee was quite good. It's more of a dessert than a beverage you would drink to get you going in the morning.

After coffee, some of us were ready to return to the hotel. We called for a car using the local ride share app and stepped outside to wait for it to appear.

The streets were more packed than ever. One family had blocked off a section of sidewalk in front of their apartment building. They were apparently celebrating their child's birthday with friends. About 10 young adults were sitting on mats cooking a hot pot as the child toddled about. Another friend arrived on a motorbike with a fancy cake in a box. Fun said that they were probably celebrating on the street because there was not enough room for all of them in the family's apartment.

We waited and waited and waited beside the celebrating family. Finally we received word via the ride share app that the driver of our car was not able to get to us through all the traffic. The situation was looking a bit bleak because the streets were now closed to vehicles, but somehow another car managed to reach us and we made it back to the hotel.