If Ho Chi Minh City is Vietnam’s brightly embossed business card, then Hanoi is it’s visceral, raw beating heart. Pulsing with the lifeblood of the country, this city seems somehow to represent the “Old” Vietnam, over Ho Chi Minh’s “New” Vietnam. It somehow, on face value anyway, seems more Asian than it’s Southern Cousin, busier, grimier, grungier, more in your face South East Asia.
Hanoi’s Old Quarter is a fantastic slice of real urban Asia. It’s labyrinthine streets pulsing with humanity; winding warrens of lanes bursting with life; new and old, all flowing together in an endless mass. Local and foreigner alike, all humming along to the same rhythm. On every street corner an opportunity to be liberated from your Dong or your Dollars; buy this, buy that, go here, go there…..the all too familiar soundtrack to the South East Asian journey emanating from every doorway and shop front. At night, bleary eyed Backpackers do the Bia Hoi stumble down the still buzzing streets and lanes; somehow their thousand yard stare finding them a safe passage through the constant flow of scooters and people. On every pavement and footpath row upon row of impossibly small plastic stools hint at the possibilities of tasty street food morsels; all so unknown and tantalisingly waiting to be discovered.
Into this sweaty maelstrom we wandered. Toddler in our arms.
Quite what Harvey made of it all I’m not sure. To say he was a little stunned is probably an under statement. Quite what the locals made of us, I’m not too sure of that either. But whatever it was; everyone was more than friendly. Harvey became an instant star in any restaurant we ventured into. Regularly disappearing into kitchens in the arms of matronly Vietnamese ladies and reappearing with his hair tied up, or a banana in his mouth… or both.
As I walked around the streets of Hanoi with him on my back I began to get used to the constant “Hello’s” and waves and coo’s, although it did take me a while to realise that none of them were ever aimed at me. I became merely a mode of transport, an invisible platform for Harvey to be greeted by his myriad fans from.
We stayed in the area around St Josephs cathedral, where the streets are slightly wider and quieter than the Old Quarter itself; making getting around with Harvey that bit easier. This area and that around Hoan Kiem lake is like an oasis from the chaos and intensity of the Old Quarter. The lake regularly has a nice cooling breeze flowing and is a popular place to catch all kinds of activity. Tai Chi, Yoga, group exercise classes – you name it, someone’s giving it a go around that lake right now. It’s also a great place to hang out with an iced Coconut Coffee, or a Hanoi Beer and watch the world going by.
Other than food, coffee and beer – lot’s of cold beer……. we ventured around the the various museums and sights within the city. Ho Chi Minhs mausoleum probably being the standout for me, on weirdness alone. It’s all very formal; no hats, no talking, single file – they take it all pretty seriously. And then there in front of you is Uncle Ho himself, lying there in a big glass case. All lit up and with 4 serious looking guards in starched white uniforms around him. All pretty weird considering the man himself wanted a humble funeral and no big fuss. Obviously no one listened.
I think Harvey’s favourite was Thong Nhat Park, formerly Lenin Park. A very well cared for park just south of the lake. It has some weirdly quaint and rustic rides scattered around the park and a few playgrounds. Unfortunately on the day we chose to go there the mercury had tipped 40 degrees by 10am, so it was a hot, quick experience and sadly one we didn’t repeat.
We had 10 days in Hanoi and we had planned to head away for trip or two but unfortunately Harvey got a bit sick, and although this was not a good thing, we were lucky to find the Family Medical Practice. This place would put many western hospitals and emergency clinics to shame, well in it would NZ anyway. Cheap, quick and with excellent English, we were sent on our way again with comprehensive instructions. In a few days he recovered but it sadly put paid to our plans to venture further afield.
After 10 days Harvey’s fan club at our hotel were sorry to see him go. He certainly made some friends there. Hopefully he will continue to do so as we travel around.
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