Author: susanhachey@gmail.com

I am sitting in the Real Kangaroo Cafe having just said good-bye to Sonia. I hope to see her again someday…a kindred spirit. I head to Sapa shortly on the overnight train, and the owner of the cafe says that it (the train) will be a wonderful experience. Seeing is believing.

It turned out to be an interesting day. Down at the lake this afternoon, watching the world go by, the world suddenly came to me. First, three university students working on a project to improve their English. They asked to do a three-minute interview on the subject of movies, and filmed the whole thing with their iPhones. They were amazed to hear that movie-goers in Canada are asked to turn off their mobile phones, to refrain from speaking and don’t fare well if they kick the seat in front of them. They ended the interview by admitting that Vietnam could take a few lessons in movie theatre etiquette…. I received a lovely parting gift…a bookmark and two postcards, all with old world Hanoi scenes.

They had no sooner left than two young women, also students, arrived and asked if they could just talk to me. So we chatted for a good 30 minutes about all manner of subjects. In the middle of that, another young woman arrived with a 45-question survey about my hotel experience in Hanoi. All in all, a busy time and I had to escape to this cafe to get a little down time…

Luckily, Sonia was available for dinner and we had a lovely Thai meal down the street. When we emerged onto the street afterwards, the rain had started and traffic was heavy. Another friendly Hanoi native helped us to cross the street afterwards. Otherwise, I’d likely still be there…

Le Petit Hanoi Hotel….I was transferred here by the place I originally booked because they had a guest who got sick and didn’t check out…so no room for me. This place is on a busy street. When I say “on”, I mean the dining area is 5 metres from cars and pedestrians. Quiet it is not.

But, if I hadn’t come here, I wouldn’t have met Sonia, a young woman from Perce on the Gaspe Coast, and we would not have spent a wonderful day touring Hanoi on foot yesterday. Sonia has this wonderful map application, and it took us on a fascinating tour of winding alleys and crowded streets to the National University of Education which was packed with teen-aged graduates in caps and gowns, their proud parents, and tourists from every corner of the earth.

We had lunch on a rooftop overlooking the daily sights of this bustling city, men getting haircuts on wooden stools on the sidewalk, the mirror affixed to the stone wall surrounding the school. Women preparing and cooking full meals on the sidewalk, others hawking intricate paper lace postcards arranged in colourful upside-down umbrellas. And the relentless traffic, even on Sunday when many people have the day off.

We made our way to the Ho Chi Minh complex, a huge museum dedicated to the life and times of Uncle Ho. It was an odd place…an arrangement of giant plastic fruit on a huge table set amongst exquisite sculptures, original documents, hand-written notes. Next door across a huge plaza, the mausoleum where his body lies and where thousands line up five days a week, mornings only, to pay their respects. I’ve heard rumours that his body is not, in fact, where it is purported to be, but I have no way of confirming.

I am checking out of my hotel in an hour or so, heading down to the Kangaroo Cafe where I will leave my big backpack until my return from Sapa on Friday morning. Not looking forward to lugging the beast down all those narrow stairs. I’d ask the young lad at the desk for help but his English is limited. He keeps calling me sir….you would think I’d get used to it but old habits die hard.

Snuggled under the duvet at the Hung Long Hotel on Cat Ba Island. This is the most money I’ve paid for a room due to the dreaded single supplement – an extra $20 – but it is big and luxurious with a great view…worth every penny. Actually, the entire Ha Long Bay cruise has been excellent value for money. I’m sure there are less expensive tours, and I know for a fact you can pay a lot more, so I’m feeling like Goldilocks with my “just right” option.

We boarded Hoa Binh in Ha Long City a little after noon yesterday after an uneventful 3.5 hour drive from Hanoi. My fellow boat mates included Andre and Catherine from Montreal, Peter from Portland, Oregon, Richard from London and Tilly from Copenhagen who has two months left in a year-long, round the world adventure.

There aren’t enough superlatives to describe Ha Long Bay. It was overcast when we set out and this only added to the ethereal atmosphere as we (and hundreds of other boats) glided past the huge karst rock formations jutting out of the sea. It was difficult to concentrate on the exquisite lunch the crew had prepared for us, surrounded as we were with such beauty.

We eventually stopped at Ti Top Island where Peter, Richard and I climbed the 400 stone steps to the look-off. Others combed the white sand beach or dipped their toes in the bay…a bit chilly for my taste given that I’ve been spoiled by bathtub temperatures in the south…

The pre-dinner cooking class – totally unexpected – taught the fine art of assembling fresh spring rolls. The galley crew had done all the heavy lifting of course, chopping, slicing and dicing so that all we had to do was put the filling in the rice paper and roll it up. Sounds easy, right? Let’s just say I’ll need a bit more practice.

Then, dinner. Once again blown away by the effort put into the meals. I think it’s safe to say that none of us left the table hungry.

Day 2 could have started with photos at sunrise followed by tai chi on the top deck. Luckily, Andre took care of the pictures (and has promised to share) and Catherine was the tourist representative at the tai chi class. The rest of us just showed up for breakkie at 7, well rested and eager to start the day.

Sung Sot cave was next on the agenda, a great opportunity for folks who didn’t make it to Phong Nha to get a taste of the wonders that exist in our natural world.

Returning to the big boat, Peter and I prepared to say our good-byes. The others were going back to Hanoi and we were continuing on with another day on the water and to spend the night on Cat Ba Island. I hated to leave our little group as we had bonded quickly, but more adventure awaited.

We transferred to a bigger boat and settled in with a coffee, only to be told five minutes later that we were switching boats again. This time, a smaller vessel with four other passengers, Tony and Wendy from Melbourne and two young guys from Israel – didn’t catch their names. Our guide…Mr. Hero.

We made a stop on Monkey Island where we could have gone for a swim if we wished (the young guys did and the comment as they surfaced was “bloody hell”). I opted for a shell and monkey search. Lots of shells…zero monkeys. Back on the boat, this time heading to a small village on Cat Ba where the guys were staying in a bungalow in Viet Hai. We all got on bikes and cycled to the tiny community to get them checked in. It was a charming little place…very little there but surrounded by breathtaking scenery. Loads of biking opportunities as it’s right in the national park (as is most of the island). This little village sits in a valley and as such was covered in water during the rainy season five years ago. I mean eight metres of water…up to the Welcome to Viet Hai sign that arches the roadway into town.

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We reached Cat Ba City mid-afternoon. It might as well have been 10 at night as far as my energy level was concerned so I opted for a hot shower and some down time before meeting Peter, Wendy, Tony and Mr. Hero for a nice dinner. Absolutely fabulous tour!

I spent eleven hours on the train yesterday from Dong Hoi to Hanoi.it was lovely to see the lights of the big city as we rolled into town around 8 pm. My hotel is well-situated, close to both the lake and the backpacker quarter. There’s always lots of life around the younger people…jam sessions in the streets, watching them shoppimg for cheap meals so that there will be money for beer. I remember it well, although I was squeezing pennies on King Avenue in Bathurst and not in this grand old dowager of northern Vietnam.

Once again, I am surprised at how comfortable I feel. The area I’m in is a maze of twisting, turning alleys and one-way streets. My taxi had to drop me off at the start of my alley because it’s too narrow for cars. That was a walk filled with trepidation I’ll tell you, passing whole families who lined both sides of the alley, calmly eating their evening meal on red plastic kid-sized chairs.

How’s this for Small World Dept? There were three young girls in the compartment next to mine on the train. We spoke briefly upon arrival and I was tempted to ask if they wanted to share a taxi but let it slide, given the size of this city and number of hotels. I’d just finished my tea and paperwork at Hanoi Ciao Hotel when they walked through the door. Hard to believe…

I made my way to the Kangaroo Cafe this morning and finalized my Ha Long Bay tour for tomorrow. At long last, there are international ATMs everywhere, meaning I can withdraw more than two million dong at a time. It sounds like a breathtaking amount of money but it’s about $125 and the bank fees really add up… My final chore of the morning was to endure a spa pedicure…

After a sumptuous lunch of banh my at another hole-in-the-wall, I browsed the lake area and the temple that sits at one end. Hanoi is so different from Saigon. I think there are almost as many people, but it is laid back, cooler (low 20s) and friendlier. I stopped by the side of the lake at one point this morning and a man sat down next to me and struck up a friendly conversation. I was half-expecting a sales pitch but no, he just wanted to talk. So refreshing…

I spent yesterday on a tour of Phong Nha and Paradise Caves at Phong Nha National Park, a 90-minute drive from Dong Hoi in Central Vietnam. Phong Nha cave was discovered about a thousand years ago, hence the park’s name. Since that time there have been more and more caves uncovered, one of the most recent being Son Doong, first explored in 2009. It’s the largest cave in the world. Has its own jungle and climate. It also costs $3000 US to visit! and there’s a one-year waiting list. All I can say is that it’s hard to imagine how it could be any more magnificent than Phong Nha…or Paradise for that matter.

As with most of nature’s wonders, it’s hard to capture what the eye beholds, but I tried…

My second train trip in Vietnam…six hours from Da Nang to Dong Hoi. Given it was mid-day and the trip relatively short, I opted for a seat instead of a berth. Random thoughts and shots…

The car is dirty and has a stale odour of chicken soup  I hear loud gagging noises and see a young woman coming down the aisle, dangerously close to vomiting.

I am seated across from two porters  one of whom is going through the other’s hair with tweezers.

Even the grimy windows cannot take away from the lush green landscape…vines and massive tropical leaves blanketing rolling hills that drop gently to deserted beaches and the sea..

My seat mate’s elbow is stuck into my arm like a piece of wood.

All but the very poorest of houses in towns and villages along the way have identical huge pots of bright yellow flowers adorning their entrances.

I am working on becoming friends with the baby boy in the seat in front of me. So far I’m failing but he has shown some interest in peekaboo! 

I don’t think it’s my imagination that in addition to rice field after rice field, I am seeing more and more graveyards as we head farther north.  There was heavy fighting here during the American war.

I ask the man next to me to remove his body from my seat space. He complies, and bids me a cheerful good-bye when he disembarks.

i am sitting in the very busy train station in Da Nang. That name was always associated with war in the past; in the future, it will bring back memories of long, beautiful beaches and a bustling, move-forward city.

My time in Hoi An was perfect. I didn’t realize how much I needed to relax and unplug from the road until I actually did it. Loc Phat Villa and Homestay was the perfect place to do that too, far enough from the old quarter to be quiet but still walkable. Linh, her sister Hoang and their entire family were great hosts, friendly and helpful. Staying next door to a temple assisted with the whole Zen feel to my visit here too.

Most memorable experience in Hoi An…Banh my! To die for! Next stop, Dong Hoi and the caves! But first, a six-hour train trip in the club car…adventure awaits methinks.

There’s a steady, fine rain falling. Wang at reception says it might end by this afternoon but I think I’ll look for a light jacket regardless; I am heading north where it is cooler, and I’ll definitely need something warm for Sapa.

Hoi An has grown on me…a lot! I met a woman from New York a few days ago, and we’ve been hanging out together, experiencing the sights, sounds and smells of this charming little town. Hoi An was once an important trading port but that changed when ships got larger and the port could no longer accommodate them. That trading history explains the astounding number of merchants here, selling everything imaginable. It is well-known for the myriad tailors who can whip up whatever your heart desires in about 24-hours. Like something but they don’t have the colour or size you want? No worries, the shop keeper will take your order and deliver it to your hotel in a couple of hours. A dangerous place for someone like me….

In a perverse twist, however, I have downsized my wardrobe! Packed up the stuff I never should have brought and sent it home by sea yesterday  I should have it by May, which is about when I’ll be ready to look at it again  Have I finally learned the packing lesson?

My friend Christine invited me along on a tour yesterday of My Son, an ancient Champa temple site about 40 kms outside of town. This place was bombed heavily during the war as is evident by the crumbling structures and huge indents in the earth which have been converted into “ponds”. We were accompanied by the funniest (and shortest) tour guide in Vietnam, Lan, and her apprentice, Nhan. Lan not only works as a guide; she is a singer, a poet, an actor and a strong advocate for her country’s sovereignty. She combined all of these into an unforgettable morning which culminated in a stand-up performance in a hole-in-the-wall banh my shop where we had lunch. I’m still chuckling. 

I was once again completely present  no pics on phone…sorry…

 

 

It rained overnight as forecast and the garden at Loc Phat Homestay & Villa is lush and fragrant. This is by far the most comfortable I’ve been since leaving home. Actually, including home! The room looks like something from a spa retreat, the breakfast was good and plentiful and all for $25 US. I also like the location which is mid-way between the beach and town.

Hoi An….I understand why previous visitors speak so highly of it. It is the most Western of any place I’ve visited to date, so it’s familiar, comfortable, completely geared toward tourists. But authentic Vietnam it is not. And while I am thrilled that it is easy, I am a wee bit disappointed. But hey, I’m drinking the best coffee I’ve had since leaving home and sitting outside in a green garden filled with red Chinese lanterns. 

The train trip from Phan Thiet outside of Mui Ne was a hoot. I shared my compartment with a Vietnamese woman who might have been about my age and also the female train porter who slept on the bunk above me. It appeared that she was on duty because she jumped up at one stop, put on her cap and rushed out to stand on the platform, looking official if a bit disheveled. But for the most part, she slept…

It appeared that she and the other lady knew each other. They sang songs together, shared food (and tried to feed me several times) and talked a lot. They did their best to include me but it was kinda useless, given my ten words of Vietnamese. The best part of all? I slept like a baby for ten hours. There’s nothing like the sounds and sway of a train clickety-clacking to put me back in baby land, no doubt inherited from my dear Dad.

The sun looks like it may make an appearance. Damn…

I am starting to get the hang of Mui Ne. One of the tricks is to rise early and go to the beach before the wind (and waves) pick up. A quick ice coffee at the beach bar, then 90 minutes of walking the shore, taking time for a refreshing swim, collecting unique shells to be deposited into my bowl of fame back home.

Arriving back at Coco Sand after a late breakfast, I engaged in a quick language lesson with the guy at the desk, then turned around to see a familiar face…the dude who has been trying to convince me since my arrival that I should see the sand dunes from the back of his motorbike. He wears a startlingly-white hat festooned with the Canadian flag, a gift from a tourist. He’s a sweet guy, but it ain’t happening. I think I finally got through to him yesterday, although he’ll likely try again before I leave here; I think it’s written somewhere in the motorbike driver code of ethics that no means probably…

I opted for a Jeep tour of local attractions in the afternoon…The vehicle was 40 years old, and we managed to cram eight tourists plus the driver into it – three young guys from Texas, two young Israeli women, a couple from LA and me.

The first driver was insane, so when we stopped and another guy took his place it was all we could do not to give him a standing ovation. Instead, I patted him on the back and asked him not to kill us. He smiled warmly, which I took as a good sign, fool that I am.

First stop, the Fairy Stream. I don’t know why they call it that, as I repeated over and over to the curmudgeon from LA as we walked barefoot upstream. It wasn’t long though before the magic began…soaring cliffs of PEI-red sands, impossible greenery, and cows! Almost as good as fairies!

I struck up a conversation with one of the Texas lads who was pretty banged up with bandages on his arms, legs and foot. Turns out it was…..drum roll….a motorcycle accident. Seems a truck cut him off. I rest my case about &@$/#€£ motorcycles.

Arriving back at the jeep, we were told we had to wait an extra ten minutes while the driver scanned the faces of passing tourists. We were a little confused, seeing as our group was all present and accounted for, but we finally got the signal to get back on board, only the Israeli girls weren’t coming with us. They were sent to another vehicle and we replaced by a very nice Chinese couple. I made a mental note not to be the last one back to the jeep…

On to the fishing village. There were boats. We took pictures. Back in the jeep, this time in a seat where I couldn’t see the road because this guy had apparently attended the same driving school as the first one…

The white sand dunes were absolutely mind-boggling. Trouble was, they were quite far away from the parking lot and the only way to get close was by 4-wheeler. I hate those things…more than motorcycles actually…but I had no choice. After getting the curmudgeon’s Vietnamese wife to read him the riot act about going slowly, I paid my two bits and climbed aboard. That bastard is responsible for taking ten years off my life….

Last stop, red sand dunes at sunset. And we made it back to town with no incident although we took the back roads instead of the highway because there are “less police… “