City of Surprises
For us, Hanoi is like a splash of very cold water in the face. The time in Bali/Lombok was so laid back that we kind of slipped into a bit of lazy island lifestyle. This is MUCH different. The city is hectic, noisy, and constantly on the move.
Because we only have two days here, I am anxious to get out the door fairly early, much to Ang’s chagrin. She is a good sport today though, so we actually headed out at a pretty reasonable hour, with the goal of stopping at the gallery our hotel told us about, and then just wandering around the Old Quarter of the city.
The Old Quarter is the original heart of Hanoi, dating back over 1,000 years, and is still the center of activity for shops, markets, and restaurants. The layout has no rhyme nor reason, so we spend most of the morning weaving around the warren of streets, getting lost once or twice, but not too far off the beaten path, and I find that whenever I stop for a beer at a sidewalk cafe, it does wonders for my map reading skills.
The other challenge that took a little getting used to is simply crossing the street. There are very few traffic lights here and traffic itself is a constantly flowing mass of motorbikes and cyclos (bicycles with a seat in front of the tire that serve as short distance taxis), so waiting for a clear spot to cross is basically pointless. Instead, we learn from watching the locals that the trick is too just start walking, and as long as you keep a consistent pace, the drivers will adjust and part around you like the Red Sea.
In between shops and galleries, we sample a wide range of different street foods. Some we recognize, like Pho, spring rolls and doughnuts, but a whole lot we don’t. Fortunately, even the strange looking ones don’t taste that bad, and by the end of the day we’re still going strong, so nothing seemed to make us sick. There is a local beer we have read about that sells for about 15 cents a glass (it is unpasteurized and only lasts a day so they price it low to make sure it sells out) that seems like it would make a good pairing for a skewer of unknown meat, but so far I haven’t found a good place to try it yet.
Towards dinner the heat and noise are starting to wear down my trusty sidekick, who is looking for the first opportunity to get back to the solitude of the Sheraton. As I wanted to see the night market before calling it a day, I bribe her with promise of a foot massage. This turns out to be easier said than done, as unlike Thailand or Indonesia, finding a massage place actually proves very difficult. We finally find a hotel that advertises a spa on the second floor, so pop in there and settle in for some pampering.
What we end up with is easily the world’s worst massage. The two ladies show up in very short skirts, and while this doesn’t really bother me, we start to wonder if this might be one of those other kinds of massage parlors. Our suspicions are only heightened when a foot massage really turns out to be a “dealer’s choice”, with some rubbing of the feet, a lot of work on the knee, a bit of arm and hand, and finally some face for good measure. It seems that when we didn’t start the session asking for the “specy specy” menu, they didn’t really know what to do, so ended up throwing together whatever came to mind and running out the clock.
By the end of the hour, my “masseuse” is behind me in the chair with my head laid back against her chest, rubbing my head and shoulders. I struggle to remember the last time I was in a similar position, but figure it must have been somewhere like Las Vegas, and probably cost a whole lot more than $7. As strange as it seems, my description here only scratches the surface, so for anyone interested, feel free to ask about the Frank Costanza, the dry rub, or the Chinese noodle when we get back.
Back out on the street, and desperately digging through our bag for the Purell, we find the night market open and wander a bit through the stalls. We also find a few new foods to try, including a great sandwich they make with a small loaf of french bread and gyro meat. At about 70 cents each, they prove to be one of our favorite finds.
By 10pm, we are pretty beat, so finally call it a day and jump in a cab back to the hotel. Tomorrow we have no specific plans, but have talked about stopping into see the preserved body of Ho Chi Minh and visiting the French Quarter. We also need to make some travel plans for Halong Bay and also flights to Da Nang and Saigon. We have come to learn that next Friday is the start of a very big national holiday, so most flights are already booked. Since we fly out of Saigon, its not really optional that we get there, meaning the only question is whether we can scrounge up a flight or get stuck with 30 hours on the chicken bus.