It was my first day in Vietnam and I had no idea why I was there. I was sitting alone in Hanoi on the south side of Hoa Kiem Lake minding my own business, in a sort of bored and anxious malaise. I must be getting old because leading up to this trip I'd felt more anxious than excited. The last few years I've rarely traveled alone... I'd almost always been meeting up with one of those jackasses I met in Khao Lak, usually Mark and Rich. Not this time, though, as Rich is still waiting for that plate to be put in his head and Mark is doing something either illegal or immoral or both with his soon-to-be Asian bride.
I'm contemplating all this and whether or not it'd be interesting to see the embalmed body of Ho Chih Minh when I look up and am suddenly surrounded by four giggly girls looking at me and gabbing away in what I presume to be Vietnamese.
"What's your name?"
Ok, here it comes. What am I gonna get sold today? They decide to sit down, two on either side of me, and begin the barrage...
"Where are you from?" "Are you by yourself?" "Where do you live?" "Do you like Vietnam?" "What is your job?" "Do you know Liverpool football?" "How old are you?" "Are you married?" When I answer no it gets all quiet, like I told them I have aerially communicable herpes or something. Then they start barraging me with questions about why I'm not married when I'm so old, and one of them says she's 21 and she's engaged, and then they ask me if I like girls, then one of them suggests I should go to the tribal "Love Market" in Sapa to find a bride, which they all think is the funniest thing ever. And on and on for half an hour. They explain to me that they are local university students and their teacher instructed them go for walks around the lake on Sunday mornings to practice their English with foreigners. Then one of them says "We want to take you out for ice cream."
Yeah right. I'll be walking along the street with these four evil elves and a van will pull up and someone will clobber me over the head and dump me in the lake. But I do like ice cream, so I say ok. We walk a couple of blocks away from the lake and away from the street, into this courtyard packed with people where I am the only non-Vietnamese person. I know this because I'm a head taller than everybody else. I'm like a human lighthouse. The girls insist on buying me ice cream, then drag me across the street for a free Fanta for "Teens only."
It's been about an hour so the girls have to leave but first they want their picture taken with me by the lake. We walk back over there and happen to see a photo shoot going on with three tall Vietnamese models sporting some sort of traditional dresses and walking along the side of the lake. The girls get all excited at this and run over to talk to the photographer. Then one of the girls comes over to me, grabs my arm, and says "Stand over there" meaning where the three models are standing. So the next thing I know I'm getting my picture taken with these three models... people are stopping and staring at us, taking pictures on their phones, the girls are going mental, and I have no idea what the hell is going on. So make sure you look out for me in the next issue of Vogue Vietnam. I'd been in Hanoi for three hours.
What else can I say about Hanoi? I've never seen this many scooters in my life. Crossing the street is like playing human Frogger. Everybody's honking their horn all the time. I've been told that's because people don't use their mirrors and they honk to let everyone know they're coming. Apparently it's illegal to drive in Vietnam if your horn is not working. The street food is outstanding... you can sit down on tiny plastic stools on just about any street corner and find something good to eat. Mostly I've just been pointing at stuff which I hope is chicken, and usually ends up containing a high amount of gristle and/or cartilage. I'm enjoying the Bia Hoi which is fresh beer for about 20 cents a glass. I took a cooking class where I learned how to make a typical northern dish called Bun Cha which is spring rolls and barbecued meat in a kind of soup with rice noodles. Apparently you're supposed to eat pho for breakfast, and Vietnamese people end up eating about 5 or 6 times a day when it's all said and done. I also have to say that Vietnamese coffee kicks ass... it has a strange kind of spice flavor to it. I went for a tour of the Hanoi Hilton, which really is more of a Ramada Inn at best. My favorite part was the pictures of the captured U.S. pilots playing volleyball or decorating a christmas tree... like they're on holiday or something.
Here's a video of one of my moped taxi rides. Pretty tame but you may get an idea.
I've been trying to say a few words here or there, mostly hello and thank you, but the locals seem pretty indifferent to it. The kids are the friendliest, they'll run up to you and say hello and giggle and run away. I've been called "handsome boy" a couple of times which is understandable. Some things are so powerfully obvious that they cross cultural lines.
I happened to be in town for the September 2nd independence day festival where it seemed like the entire city of Hanoi came out to celebrate. All the streets around the lake were closed down... kind of anyway... with only scooter traffic zooming around the pedestrians and with several stages with music and whatnot. Lots of posters of Uncle Ho around the place.
Also, apparently I have one of those recognizable faces, or all bald people look alike. People I've been compared to so far on this trip:
Karim Benzema
Randy Couture
Zidane (again. What is it about me and French footballers?)
The guy from Prison Break. I've never seen Prison Break so I don't know who that is. I'm not sure I want to be associated with prison anything.
I did manage to take a few days trip out to Halong Bay as well, which is a bay made up of around 3000 limestone islands. Again, it's probably best described in pictures, but I've never seen anything like the expanse of limestone outcroppings popping out of the ocean which seem to go on forever. I won't say it was much of a cultural experience, you had your requisite band of drunken partying English dudes, but who cares when you're on the beach with a 333 beer in your hand?
Half the people I've met seem to be English teachers who taught in South Korea. I met a woman from Massa-Carrara which is about 10 minutes from Viareggio, a French-Canadian guy who hit a pig with a motorcycle and has an irrational hatred of people from Ontario, and on the train ride to Da Nang I rode in a compartment with three people from San Francisco.
By the way, Dong jokes never get old... they're like poop jokes. I could hang out in this country just for that.
Without further ado... here are the pics:
https://photos.app.goo.gl/1B5qq2DhD7iUkBF2A
Take 'er easy,
Dave
I'm contemplating all this and whether or not it'd be interesting to see the embalmed body of Ho Chih Minh when I look up and am suddenly surrounded by four giggly girls looking at me and gabbing away in what I presume to be Vietnamese.
"What's your name?"
Ok, here it comes. What am I gonna get sold today? They decide to sit down, two on either side of me, and begin the barrage...
"Where are you from?" "Are you by yourself?" "Where do you live?" "Do you like Vietnam?" "What is your job?" "Do you know Liverpool football?" "How old are you?" "Are you married?" When I answer no it gets all quiet, like I told them I have aerially communicable herpes or something. Then they start barraging me with questions about why I'm not married when I'm so old, and one of them says she's 21 and she's engaged, and then they ask me if I like girls, then one of them suggests I should go to the tribal "Love Market" in Sapa to find a bride, which they all think is the funniest thing ever. And on and on for half an hour. They explain to me that they are local university students and their teacher instructed them go for walks around the lake on Sunday mornings to practice their English with foreigners. Then one of them says "We want to take you out for ice cream."
Yeah right. I'll be walking along the street with these four evil elves and a van will pull up and someone will clobber me over the head and dump me in the lake. But I do like ice cream, so I say ok. We walk a couple of blocks away from the lake and away from the street, into this courtyard packed with people where I am the only non-Vietnamese person. I know this because I'm a head taller than everybody else. I'm like a human lighthouse. The girls insist on buying me ice cream, then drag me across the street for a free Fanta for "Teens only."
It's been about an hour so the girls have to leave but first they want their picture taken with me by the lake. We walk back over there and happen to see a photo shoot going on with three tall Vietnamese models sporting some sort of traditional dresses and walking along the side of the lake. The girls get all excited at this and run over to talk to the photographer. Then one of the girls comes over to me, grabs my arm, and says "Stand over there" meaning where the three models are standing. So the next thing I know I'm getting my picture taken with these three models... people are stopping and staring at us, taking pictures on their phones, the girls are going mental, and I have no idea what the hell is going on. So make sure you look out for me in the next issue of Vogue Vietnam. I'd been in Hanoi for three hours.
What else can I say about Hanoi? I've never seen this many scooters in my life. Crossing the street is like playing human Frogger. Everybody's honking their horn all the time. I've been told that's because people don't use their mirrors and they honk to let everyone know they're coming. Apparently it's illegal to drive in Vietnam if your horn is not working. The street food is outstanding... you can sit down on tiny plastic stools on just about any street corner and find something good to eat. Mostly I've just been pointing at stuff which I hope is chicken, and usually ends up containing a high amount of gristle and/or cartilage. I'm enjoying the Bia Hoi which is fresh beer for about 20 cents a glass. I took a cooking class where I learned how to make a typical northern dish called Bun Cha which is spring rolls and barbecued meat in a kind of soup with rice noodles. Apparently you're supposed to eat pho for breakfast, and Vietnamese people end up eating about 5 or 6 times a day when it's all said and done. I also have to say that Vietnamese coffee kicks ass... it has a strange kind of spice flavor to it. I went for a tour of the Hanoi Hilton, which really is more of a Ramada Inn at best. My favorite part was the pictures of the captured U.S. pilots playing volleyball or decorating a christmas tree... like they're on holiday or something.
Here's a video of one of my moped taxi rides. Pretty tame but you may get an idea.
I've been trying to say a few words here or there, mostly hello and thank you, but the locals seem pretty indifferent to it. The kids are the friendliest, they'll run up to you and say hello and giggle and run away. I've been called "handsome boy" a couple of times which is understandable. Some things are so powerfully obvious that they cross cultural lines.
I happened to be in town for the September 2nd independence day festival where it seemed like the entire city of Hanoi came out to celebrate. All the streets around the lake were closed down... kind of anyway... with only scooter traffic zooming around the pedestrians and with several stages with music and whatnot. Lots of posters of Uncle Ho around the place.
Also, apparently I have one of those recognizable faces, or all bald people look alike. People I've been compared to so far on this trip:
Karim Benzema
Randy Couture
Zidane (again. What is it about me and French footballers?)
The guy from Prison Break. I've never seen Prison Break so I don't know who that is. I'm not sure I want to be associated with prison anything.
I did manage to take a few days trip out to Halong Bay as well, which is a bay made up of around 3000 limestone islands. Again, it's probably best described in pictures, but I've never seen anything like the expanse of limestone outcroppings popping out of the ocean which seem to go on forever. I won't say it was much of a cultural experience, you had your requisite band of drunken partying English dudes, but who cares when you're on the beach with a 333 beer in your hand?
Half the people I've met seem to be English teachers who taught in South Korea. I met a woman from Massa-Carrara which is about 10 minutes from Viareggio, a French-Canadian guy who hit a pig with a motorcycle and has an irrational hatred of people from Ontario, and on the train ride to Da Nang I rode in a compartment with three people from San Francisco.
By the way, Dong jokes never get old... they're like poop jokes. I could hang out in this country just for that.
Without further ado... here are the pics:
https://photos.app.goo.gl/1B5qq2DhD7iUkBF2A
Take 'er easy,
Dave
