Hanoi Hoi

Xin chào

(Pronounced sin chow)

I am in lovely Hanoi and there is quite a bit to catch up on.

I guess first things first, I may or may not have had malaria. I had the symptoms and I took my meds as prescribed by the travel doc, and after a few days of being sick as a dog I am all better! But it could also have been a bug I picked up, or even just the stress of my last couple days in Nepal.

Not only did I have a stressfull day walking around the streets of Kathmandu but the bus ride from Chitwan to the Nepali capital was scary to say the least.

Not even lying but I was not confident I was going to make it to Kathmandu. We were late leaving Chitwan because we had to fuel up and had to replace a flat tyre, and I think the bus driver (Evil Keneval reborn) was making up for lost time. He was flooring it! And believe me when I say the tight, twisty, bumpy pot-holed roads of Nepal are not where you want to be speeding. We even went airborn a couple times - arses left seats and heads bumped roof racks!

I got a few more greys on the bus ride but I also made a new friend so wasn't all that bad.

Just please make sure before getting on a bus in Nepal that all your affairs are in order.

Anyways, I made it to Hanoi on Thursday and I've been staying with dear friends who live here in the ex-pat district.

I'm also very lucky to be here during the birth of bubs #2 and so I've been enjoying lots of cuddles.

Some people's jaws may have dropped but contrary to popular belief I don't actually hate children, I just don't want any of my own. And I'll admit (I don't think I've ever acknowledged this) but I love newborns. Not enough to get the ovaries pumping - they're still dead as doornails - but I love cuddles with them and I think might even have my mum's supernatural knack of calming a crying baby.

The last time I was in Hanoi I didn't get to enjoy anything because I got the worst food poisoning of my life and spent all my time on my hotel toilet.

This time it was possibly malaria, but anyway, my first day was spent recovering on the couch watching Joanna Lumley's travel docos and wishing I could be her/be with her.

Oh, and her trip to Japan has inspired me to put Japan on my travel plans. Boarders are now open too!

I also went for a walk along the lake to get some fresh air and it was amazing. The streets weren't crowded and no one, not one, came up and spoke to me. Heaven!

And this morning I did a motorbike tour of the countryside from a company that has women drivers (https://motorbikecitytours.com/)

Now that was a fun time!

Me and my guides at the Broome factory

I was the only one on the tour and we saw Long Bien (Dragon Tail) bridge. This bridge was built ~120 years ago and during the war was bombed to shit, so a lot of the structure is gone. Now only bikes/scooters are allowed on them and they ride on the left (Vietnam they drive on the right). My guide said this is because Vietnamese people are rebals at heart and the goverment did this to satisfy the urge to rule break. Another thing about the bridge, it used to be a spot for lovers to come to and latch a padlock signifying their love on the bridge walls...? Barriers? Not sure on the correct term. But all the padlocks were so heavy it was affecting the old bombed out bridge so the government had them all removed and chucked into the Red River! But I did see one little padlock left so I guess that couple made it.

After that we went to a small village broom making factory all done by hand by skilled women.

Then it was a drive through the paddy fields and I learned a little something about rice. I picked one and peeled it and I now have a huge appreciation for rice farmers of old who had to harvest them by hand!

Took ages to peel one!

We went to an historic site of an old citadel built by the last king of Vietnam before the Chinese invaded (this was BC but can't tell you any dates). We didn't go inside but sat by the lake looking at the citadel and the well while drinking sour plum (very yummy drink and not actually sour). According to the story the king's daughter turned into a pearl after she was killed and her betrayer(husband) held her while he cast himself in to the well to die. They say the pearl is still in there. They also say the water in the well is different to the lake water it sits in the centre of. All I know is there are goldfish in the lake and they are really fun to feed.

Citadel and the well

Chuffed!

After that we went to a nearby village. I have some thoughts. What people call a village is different everywhere.

We have a village in Roebourne, it was, maybe still is, kinda like the rough side of town, though I could argue everywhere in Roebourne is the rough side.

In England they are places in the country dotted with cute cottages and lots of green (mainly getting this from The Vicar Of Dibley).

And in Vietnam they are what looked to me like walled towns with one straight road in and out with an archway either end. The bigger the archway the richer the town. And in these villages straight streets branch off to the left (where people live) and right (where the pagodas sit). And each street entrance has an archway and each house has an archway. This is meant to be really lucky.

So I visited a local house and met the most gorgeous old couple living in the most gorgeous home. The house has been around for 200 odd years and I had to stop myself from asking if I could move in. I would pay big money to live in a home like that. The plants were beautiful and obviously well loved and the architecture is stunning.

The old man served me green tea which I think had been brewing for 8 days. Pretty sure it put hair on my chest! And he told me about his home, his village, his family tree, and how both he and his wife fought in the war (didn't share any details other than that and I didn't ask).

I learned that Vietnamese people are very similar to Blackfullas (and I mean traditionally, not now). Both are not religious but revere our ancestors, both bury their dead and dig them up years later to clean the bones and re-bury (not all Blackfullas do this but some do). Both honour and respect old people over all others. Here when you turn 65 you get a big feast to celebrate and every 5 years after that another feast to celebrate.

So yeah, kinda fell in love with that old boy and his wife. Even kept the flowers he gave me from his laurel plant.

Mate I was smitten!

Took 15 yrs for the roots to grow into the statue

After that it was lunch and I was taken to a very popular place, one of those "we only serve one thing" kinda places. That one thing was dry phò (pronouced fur with your voice going down like it's on a slide and a very soft R). Was so incredibly yummy.

My last stop was egg coffee. There are only two places in Hanoi you can get it, one in Old Quarter (tourist spot) and the original shop where the locals go. Egg coffee was created by a man who worked at an embassy in the 40's and during WW2 when the French pretty much cleaned house for food supplies he used egg, honey and sugar to whip up cream to add to coffee. It became so popular he left his job at the embassy and opened a shop and his sons are still running the business today.

Photo of the OG egg coffee creator

So I've had an absolute cracker of a day!

And Vietnam is the closest I've ever felt to being home. Maybe I was Vietnamese in another life...