Whirlwind tour of Hanoi

With romanticized visions of Hanoi, we set off on a seemingly relaxing weekend away from the chaotic streets of Bangkok. We didn’t really know what to expect and our thoughts dabbled around notions of leisurely cyclo rides, boating on a lotus-filled lake, and sipping Vietnamese coffee in quiet cafes. We were really tired from lack of sleep and long airport queues so I only started reading the guidebook on the flight (while M. zonked out). Needless to say, we were not prepared for the city, especially the torrent of activity that defines daily life in Hanoi.

After clearing customs at Noi Bai Airport, we found that our ride failed to show, despite the driver’s assertion that he was waiting for us with sign in tow. Slightly more awake, we headed out the airport to source alternative transportation to the city. It was quite easy to find a taxi and the moment the car started moving, the most striking aspect of modern, urban Vietnam became apparent: the mighty horn.

Our crazy driver honked at every motor bike, bicycle, pedestrian, chook, you-name-it on the road. If endowed with honking abilities, they honked back. The beep-beep-beep-beeeeep never stops. The driver also swerved over the double line into oncoming traffic, tailed cargo-laden trucks, and blasted Vietnamese pop while talking on his cell phone. Happily we made it to the Old Quarter in one piece, even though the driver tried to extort extra fare upon reaching the hotel.

We stayed at the Classic Street Hotel on Pho Hang Be (“rafts”) in the Old Quarter. This part of the city resembles Bangkok Chinatown, with bustling activity that includes extensive motorcycle and foot traffic, merchandise spilling out of storefronts, fruit hawkers, sidewalk pho stalls, basket sellers... And the beeping, forever the beeping. We walked around here a lot and crossing the street was not dissimilar from playing Frogger.

The cool thing about the Old Quarter is that that the streets are named after some kind of product or skill (e.g., "silversmith," "baskets," "hats") as the city was organized by trade. It is still organized that way, with clusters of stores providing the same products or services, but now encompasses stuff like grave markers, appliances, scissors and hardware, counterfeit Puma and Converse sneakers and pseudo-counterfeit clothing ("Oolvin Klain" undies and "D &G: dollars and girls," among others).

Based on Hanoi, Vietnam seems on the fast track for commercial pursuits and economic development. People are very industrious, rising at the crack of dawn to open shops or engage in productive activities. Near the Classic Street Hotel, vigorous chopping and jack-hammering are popular choices, amidst the beeping of course.

We had a day to ourselves before meeting up with friends from Bangkok so we walked around Hoam Kiem Lake where recreating and fitness are taken very seriously. Older folks congregate to play checkers or speed walk (or run in circles as one woman was doing). Youth play badminton, kick footballs or some hacky sack-like object, or hang out with friends. We declined offerings from postcard/chewing gum sellers, money exchangers, private motorcycle and cyclo owners, and a vendor who tried to get me to be photographed (so she could be tipped) holding pineapple-laden baskets balanced on opposite sides of a pole. There are so many clamoring for the tourist’s buck. I guess it is like that in a lot of places but it seems sadder here somehow, given that people struggle against subtle remnants of the war. (This is more apparent in artwork we saw in both the galleries and Fine Arts Museum than on the street.)

The vegetarian fare hovered around mediocre and we found ourselves eating a lot of veggie spring rolls, including some that were served sticking out of a pineapple. We wandered into a restaurant that offered cat and pangolin, among other delicacies, on the menu. Miss Maudie would certainly not approve.

Despite the above, we glimpsed some of Hanoi’s hidden charm in the architecture and people. Behind the hustle and bustle of street life, the romanticized version probably exists somewhere. After an eventful two days and an uneventful (i.e., safe) taxi ride back to the airport, we returned home. Amazingly, Bangkok seems much more organized than when we left.