Travelling South East Asia

At Hanoi a bus collects us and we are taken to their choice of hotel yet again. This time its the Elizabeth. The over amorous member of staff shows me a room but at least I get mine cheaper than everyone else. Here we get free breakfast and internet. After a lazy morning we all head out for lunch and a few sights in the afternoon. Heidi and Adrian are in charge of the map and we weave our way through the old quarter. The streets are small and the pavements are covered in stools and tables for cafes or stalls and merchandise for sale. If not those mopeds and bikes have parked there. All in all there is no room to walk there so everyone walks in the road. However in the road more chaos ensues, bikes scrape past you, cars toot their way past them. Traffic goes and comes frm all directions making your head spin. There seems to be districts for each item. One street is full of shoes, another of glasses, next street might be full of toys. We cannot see any cafes so we continue to walk...but the further we walk the more confused we become. There are few familiar signs for us to follow. This old quarter is a maze. Everytime we see hope in the distance we arrive to find no menus and no English spoken, so none of us brave enough just yet, we carry on. Eventually we find a cafe with a menu outside specialising in spring rolls. Popular choice, we all head in. The spring rolls are delicious, as is the salad. After lunch instead of taking in the sights as planned we head back towards the hotel. The Hoan Kiem lake is close by so we wander over to that. There is a beautiful red bridge over to a temple in the lake. The bridge casts a reflection into the flat of the water and the trees around it frame the picture in the water too. I take a moment to sit by the lake choosing not to cross the bridge over to the temple. Heidi comes to join me and I munch away at some juicy pineapple sold to me across the road. Soon after the guys join us and then a stream of vietnamese and some monks stop to stare and to take pictures of me. My how the tables turn! I suspect it is my blonde hair. After watching insects skating on the water top and looking out across the lake to the buildings all around we choose to walk up to a cafe overlooking the lake. There are six floors, each with a cafe but we settle for fifth floor. Here the view we get is over the fountain, roundabout and busy road. From above the bedlam is in full view. Cars ad bikes criss cross at the junction, horns blaring, the roar of engines and then the peace of the rest of the sky over the city. The sun is now setting and the dusky view romanticises the scene. A lady with a giant bunch of inflatable balloons stands in the middle of the road, pinks, blues, all cartoon character figures. The lights surrounding the fountain come on, flashing neon colours. We drink our beer and gaze down at the action below.

Tonight will be time to say goodbye to Adrian again, but this time until we meet in England. He is going to meet his girlfriend Ailsa tomorrow and spend the week with her before going into Laos. Despite his request for me to be his slave in Laos I have simply run out of money...and time. So we all go out together firstly for food and then on to a bar. We have met up with Dan again as by coincidence Matt and Dan were also staying at Elizabeth hotel. Matt has now gone to Sapa. After asking the moto and taxi drivers where the best bars are we are taken to Solace bar by moto. Heidi and I, already having bought a bottle of vodka at the restaurant, are half cut. As the moped thunders across crossroads i'm glad i'm not fully aware. They drop us at some dodgy looking bar floating on the river where we can see the coung doung bridge towering over the river about 500 metres away. Cars and buses motor over with their headlights shining out and across. There is a long unstable path made from wood and any other materials that they must hae had to hand leading to the bar front. Entering the bar we see through the dark and smoke that we are the only westerners. The bar has a large sqaure bar opposite the entrance, an empty dancefloor and DJ booth to the right and a pool table to the right surrounded by players and their cigarette smoke. Outside a small metal terrace overhangs the river. Here we sit on a large round table. Heidi and I sneak vodka into our glasses and just buy coke from the bar. Four western girls arrive and join us. They have been driven round the houses by a corrupt taxi driver, an then charged a fortune by the meter. They are young girls with a lot of energy and it is just what we need to pick it up a bit. After a while Adrian and I stumble to the dancefloor as the DJ plays old classics. When American pie comes on we swing each other round taking up the whole dancefloor. Truth be told I will miss travelling with Adrian. It is Adrian and Heidi that I confronted earlier about the whole Danang incident when everyone seemed to be on my back about how and where we were travelling. Adrian already understood why I was annoyed, especially as he is also travelling alone. Although company is fantastic and preferable it also independance and freedom of choice that made me travel alone. Heidi is fast becoming a good companion too. Back to the dancefloor antics, when American Pie comes on Adria and I make a video and career about the bar without a care in the world. A great ending to a good few months. Back at the hotel we seem to rouse everyone who is sleeping, we have to wake the hotel staff to let us in for a start. Adrian has gone past the point of drunkeness to be completely trashed and doesnt care who knows it. Its a drunken and stupid good bye witnessed by the rest of the group as we loll about on a pile of washing and then I try and retain my balance down the stairs to my room.

The next day is a mixed bag of emotions. After being told a few times that I would be able to get a chinese visa without queueing at the embassy i'm told that I cannot. Fantastic. So having already booked a trip to Halong Bay and Sapa if I were to wait for a visa the earliest I would get to China is about the 24th May. My flight from Hong Kong is the morning of the 27th. Hardly worth it, well not worth it in fact as the liklehood is those days would be taken up by travel. After some deliberation I decide i'm ready to go home. I have no money left anyway. Dad to the rescue I find myself booking a new flight from Hanoi to Heathrow via Bangkok on 21st May. At least i'll be back for bank holiday in England. Part of me is disappointed to be changing my plans and cutting them short but another part of me is ready to go home. Living out of a bag is wearing thin and there are lots of things I miss about home now. Besides, I'll be back next year no doubt! Stress over (of which I haven't dwelled on here but believe me there was some) Heidi and I decide to go on to the Temple of Literature. Right up my street. The temple is beautiful and walking through the first gate I get a sense of an old oriental history here. Perhaps this is making up for China? It certainly meets my expectations of what a chinese temple might be like. Ornate gardens, a small pool surrounded by gates delicately designed. Red paper lanterns swing from old stone walls edged with red wood and gold symbols. Bonsai trees stand proud in the courtyard. I spend a while looking at postcards in the shops in the open courtyard and then saunter into the main body of the temple which houses several chinese style figures sitting pipes in mouth! The place is extremely serene, even with this many tourists. A few chinese ladies stroll past with an umbrella sheilding the sun.

Outside the temple once again we are reminded we are in the middle of the big city. Honking horns and hassling motos prevail. This time we are hassled long enough to agree to a moto ride. The guys seem pleasant enough. And even better, they hand us some helmets. Off we go down the pavement before entering the road. This enatils avoiding any cracks, lumps, baby stools and lamp posts. It turns out the guys drive really safely and always stick together meaning Heidi and I can take pictures of each other. In the end this is the best 40,000 dong I spend in Hanoi. Firstly we stop at the one pillar pagoda. This is a quaint little thing situated in small pond covered in lily pads. It looks like an old tudor house with its wooden beams. I wander with helmet still on and a vietnamese man and child stop for a chat and seemingly to practice his English. Waiting patiently for us, our moto drivers then take us past the Ho Chi Minh museum and the mausoleum where the embalmed corpse is...not for me thank you. Thankfully its closed in the afternoons. We battle with the traffic to drive past the palace which is a grand building in bright yellow. Onwards we go towards the big lake and now in contrast to the old quarter the newer part of the city boasts big wide roads and large impressive buildings. The ride past the big lake is an eye opener and shows us just how much of the city we are still yet to explore. We stop off at the Quan Thanh temple. The sun is going down over the big lake leaving a shimmer of gold across the centre. A giant balloon floats gently above the water tethered down somewhere out of view. Wise words are printed on banners leading into the temple. 'After realising the Karma law, human beings must tame their own thoughts, words and acts according to morality.' Too true. On the way back from the temple we see a queue for a petrol station about 200 metres long and bikes everywhere. This town is busy to say the least. We bob in and out of stationary cars and buses as only bikes can do. Before we are dropped off they take a shortcut down a small extremely narrow alley. We are in the back streets of the old quarter and the alley is about one metre wide. Despite the width it is still full of bikes, stools and people! That night we eat early and plan an early night. In spite of this I get to bed late having spent an age uploading photos onto facebook...the slow way.

In Hanoi I start to see things that remind me of Zong's family. Aspects of their life that I thought were unique to them are actually wholely Vietnamese. I understand now why the Thoong family keep tons of plastic dishes and containers. These are everywhere here, on bikes, in restaurants, keeping fresh food from the day. I understand how Zong's mum is able to carry 6 watermelons in bags held by her tiny frame. Here the fruit vendors carry two baskets joined by a piece of wood. Its very flexible and they balance it on their shoulder. The weight is vast and the pressure must be intense. This morning I saw a woman carrying at least 50 apples on each side, in each basket. They shuffle along in a rhythm which must keep the momentum. It certainly looks back breaking. It also makes sense now how Zong's family prepare vast amounts of food and encourage everyone to join them and to share. This is a massive part of their culture. We have been fed such good food and in such abundance whilst we have been here. The three year glimpse into vietnamese daily life I recieved in Birmingham was more valuable than any homestay experience here to date.