Hanoi

I had a really great week with my Dad, he left last night and I could tell he had an amazing time as well. But all good things must come to an end, and I just can't believe this trip has flown by so fast. I've got 10 days left, and 3 more towns to see.

Tonight Nigel and I will hop on the night train to Saba - a minority village in the north, just before the Chinese border. There we will spend two days trekking with a group through the villages and terraced rice paddies. I'm sure it will be a far cry from bustling, non-stop Hanoi where everyone seems to be on the move - I'm not sure where they're going or if they ever get there, but its an endless sea of motorbikes and foot traffic here. Pauses are only taken to eat or drink. On the street in Hanoi you can get a bowl of pho (noodle soup) or bun cha (the juiciest grilled pork with noodles in a sweet broth) for a dollar, and bia hoi (draught beer) for about 12 cents. It's fabulous.

Our Hanoi experience was a little different than Ho Chi Minh City. We opted to stay out of the museums and instead remained on the streets - wandering, getting lost, taking pictures, eating, drinking, and shopping. We spent one day on a private junk boat in Halong Bay - translated as Landing Dragon, for the footprints of the dragon that are made up of 2000 islands scattered in the bay. On the boat we had one of the freshest seafood meals I've ever tasted - i think the shrimp, crabs, and squid might have been caught while we were off on one of the islands. The drive to Halong Bay and back afforded a nice glimpse of the Hanoi suburbs and country side. Rice paddies up against rice paddies, where women spend their days bent at the waist planting the crops for the next rice harvest. Men ride past on motorbikes with live pigs strapped to the back, taking them to their undoubtedly grim fate. And there are store front cafes after store front cafes that serve only one thing: "thit cho" - um yeah, that would be puppy meat. I don't want to yuk their yum... but yuk.

In Hanoi we are staying at the Metropole Hotel - thank you dad - circa 1901. The place to stay in Hanoi for ambassadors, writers, journalists, heads of state, etc. I can only imagine the scene during the decades leading up to the war, and then throughout the 60s and 70s - the deals that must have gone down sitting in the mahogany bar by the pool, and the journalists overhearing confidential conversations while sipping their Graham Greenes ... "tram pham tram!" (that's Vietnamese for "bottoms up!"). The hotel is classic and so is Hanoi.