Local flavor in Hanoi

After 2600 km on motorbikes, Evan and I at last reached the great northern metropolis of Hanoi, capital of Vietnam, population 6.5 million (officially but it’s much higher than that in reality). By the time we checked into our hostel we were exhausted, filthy, and sick. Driving on the A1 and inhaling all of that exhaust had taken its toll. We had hoped to be in Hanoi only a couple of days before touring Ha Long Bay, then fly to India soon after, but we weren’t healthy, and I was adamant that I didn’t want to experience Vietnam’s (supposedly) number 1 tourist attraction whilst under the weather. So we hung out for a few days, and you know what, it was nice to be in one place for a change, not having to rise at the crack of dawn and sit on a hot leather seat all day. We stayed at the May De Ville backpackers hostel. Nice beds, complimentary brunch each morning, and on the second floor was a room with a pool table and another with a big TV and home theatre system.

Our first day in Vietnam we didn’t feel much like walking around or waiting in line at a museum, so we asked around about where we could find a cinema. To our delight we discovered that Iron Man 3 was playing.

The cinema sat on the top floor of a 6 floor mall. We arrived with a couple of hours to kill before the film began so we explored the place a bit. We found a store selling top quality musical instruments, including a showcase room in the back with a smattering of shiny baby grand pianos. I sat down at the white one and played for a while. Evan listened for a bit then picked up a guitar and did some jamming of his own.

Later as we strolled on the 4^th floor I spotted a shop with fancy massage chairs and wasted no time plunging into one of them, Evan followed suit. There’s no way I could have known at the time, but the ripple effects of this decision would alter the course of the rest of our stay in Vietnam.

A handsome young salesman greeted me. I knew the deal. In these stores (i.e. Brookstone), it’s seldom that someone waltzes in, tries out a chair for 10 minutes and then plunks down $6,000. And here we were, dirty backpackers. The salesman was very nice, friendly, and spoke excellent English. He asked Evan and I about ourselves. His name was Tuan, though he introduced himself as Ken at first to makes things easy for our white ears. Recently he had received his MBA at university in Singapore. I asked how old he was. 25. Hold the phone, I thought to myself, here’s a guy our age, a young professional who speaks good English. There is much I can learn from this man. I asked if he wanted to meet Evan and I for food and drink the following evening. He said yes and we exchanged phone numbers.

Over the next two weeks, except for a couple of tours outside Hanoi, Evan and I saw Tuan and his childhood friend Linh everyday. They took us under their wing, introduced us to their friends, showed us a side of Hanoi we would have never seen otherwise. They expanded our Vietnamese vocabulary many times over. They brought us to many of Hanoi’s local eateries, little holes in the wall you’d never know made the best of this or that dish in the whole city. If not for them, I’m ashamed to admit, we’d probably have eaten at tourist pubs everyday. We tried maybe 7 or 8 unique dinner meals as well as various snacks, desserts and fruit drinks. Most of these nights ended in the Old Quarter near our hostel, sitting on plastic stools on the street, eating peanuts and rice crackers with chili sauce, drinking Bia Hoi, the world’s cheapest beer at 25 cents a pint.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One night Evan and I went on a double date with Linh and her friend, also named Linh. We explored the night market, ate spring rolls as well as Hanoi and Ho Chi Minh style Che (a sweet dessert soup), sipped cocktails in a rooftop lounge, and all the while they chauffeured us around on the backs of their sleek red and cream colored Vespas. Overall just a really nice night out with the Linhs.

Two nights later they took us clubbing. This was like no club I’d ever seen. There was no dance floor. Each group in the club crowded around long thin tables near the DJ’s platform. On each table were at least two bowls of exotic fruit salad. Single drinks were not on the menu, only bottles. Men with runway jumpsuits were scattered about the room making sure no one’s glass was empty for more than a few seconds. The group I was with was celebrating a birthday of a guy whose name escapes me. This guy liked whiskey. Most people who know me know that this is not my drink, and if they know me really well they know why. But when one is surrounded by strange Vietnamese men who raise their glasses the moment drinks are poured, and they are picking up the tab no less, one must involve oneself. When in Rome, you might say. Here’s a few seconds of footage from the club (apologies for the graininess).

I want to reiterate how fortunate Evan and I were to have met Tuan and Linh. They became very close friends of ours, and exerted much effort to make our time in Hanoi special, show us the ropes, even leaving work early to take us out. They were a lot of fun, always up for a good laugh. All in all, terrific humans. I will miss them dearly.

We did no historical sight seeing in Hanoi. After months of visiting museums, monuments, waterfalls, caves, and temples in every city, it gets a bit old. Still, a heavy dose of the local experience made our time in Hanoi rich. One night we went to Binh Minh’s Jazz Club for some live music, and it did not disappoint. Minh, the owner of the club, runs a music school and also leads a 4-piece band that performs every night. Minh plays base sax. He’s accompanied by a pianist, drummer, and bassist. An alto sax player joined in on a couple of numbers. They played from 9 to 11 with one half hour break.

I was at this club with Evan, his former travel companion Kevin from the UK, and a British couple, John and Alexia. I told them at the start of the break that I played the piano, prompting Alexia to immediately confront the staff and ask if I could play. She came back to our table very excited and said: “I want to see this. You’re up!” The stereo music was turned off and the barman gestured for me to approach the ivory black and whites. The eyes of the nightclub upon me, I rose and approached the bench. Since this was a jazz club I felt a little Dr. John was appropriate. My man Evan was kind enough to capture it on video.

The rest of our time in Hanoi was spent getting prepared for the next chapter: recovering, arranging visas for India, organizing photos. I caught up in my journal and churned out a few blog posts as well. Evan and I went to the gym one day, did some shopping, sent flowers home for Mother’s Day.

While walking back from the US embassy one day I spotted a very fancy hotel across the street and decided to go up to the roof. From the roof I took some brief documentary footage, and here it is:

From Hanoi we embarked on 2 tours, one to Sapa in the far north near the Chinese border, and one to Ha Long Bay. These adventures will detailed in full, hopefully in the very near future.