Hanoi

Sitting in a cab  in the early hours of the morning driving through the dark deserted streets of Bangkok on the way to the airport, I felt immensely relieved and grateful that we had emerged from a testing couple of weeks relatively unscathed. There was an element of nervousness and excitement for our next adventure, as we were entering a county that neither Becky or I had visited before, so the unknown awaited us. 

As the plane descended over the outskirts of Hanoi the view was a  blanket of green manicured rice paddies separated by tiny roads; the water in the paddies shimmered from the early afternoon sun. The hotel had arranged a driver to pick us up from the airport and the journey was peppered with attempted conversation with our driver, which comprised of a few gesticulations and me speaking slowly and loudly to him thinking it would somehow improve his understanding of English!

As we entered  the old quarter of Hanoi we saw a polar opposite side to the serene countryside we had just driven through. The streets were alive with colour, noise, people: everywhere we looked there was a scene befitting of an artistic photo.

After dropping our bags off at our hostel (Hanoi Brother Inn), I  was eager to go out onto the streets and explore this fascinating city at ground level, we weren’t disappointed. It was a smorgasbord for the senses: the colours of the fruit and vegetables and other wares being traded on the sidewalks and out of the open shopfronts; scooters beeping their way through the tiny streets; cyclists ringing their bells; the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and food being made by the kiosks adorning the narrow pavements and alleyways; locals sitting sipping locally brewed beer dispensed from kegs and just watching the world go by; fruit sellers with their ‘scales’  precariously balanced on a shoulder traversing the mayhem; rickshaws ferrying people; well groomed dogs adorning their owners shop fronts. Hanoi was alive.

Becky and I could have walked around the streets embracing the scenes for days on end, but that wasn’t going to happen with the kids in tow. Crossing the road was an event in itself. Growing up in London it was ingrained in me to be road savvy, but our children weren’t used to crossing many roads; walking around the streets wasn’t really the done thing in Cape Town so Hanoi was a baptism by fire for them. Despite the abundance of vehicles and people on the road there was absolutely no road rage or aggression, something I wasn’t used to, and I had to make sure my hot headed red mist road head was replaced by a serene zen one. Scooters, bicycles, pedestrians, dogs, cars and rickshaws all had to be avoided when crossing the road, but the trick was to find a gap to first get into the road, then look straight and just walk and under no circumstances hesitate. No one particularly wanted to run you over, as the mess would take too long to scrape off their vehicle!  I found it quite fun after a while, and the kids soon got the hang of it; it was like being in a real life game of the 80’s computer game frogger.

Our first point of call in Hanoi was a reunion with two of Becky’s sisters: Shaye and Tara; who were on holiday from Cape Town and we were fortunate enough that our paths crossed and we’d get to spend a couple of days with them The kids were super excited to see their Aunt’s and on arrival at their hotel we were plied with goodies that we’d been craving for months; the cavalry had answered our call for help, and we were plied with chocolate, wine and cheese, some home comforts at last.

I always find the best way to explore a new place is by foot, and not with two hot hungry kids in tow, so an early morning run to clear my head, take in the sights and get the blood pumping is always the answer. Hanoi was no different, and I was up and ready at 6 a.m. the following morning to  beat the heat and the madness of the streets. Little did I know that 6 a.m.wasn’t considered  early in the eyes of these hard working Vietnamese people. I was taken aback with what greeted me when I got to the lake I had planned to run around, in the centre of town. Groups of women led in a synchronised dance; couples playing ‘đá cầu’ – which is a combination of badminton, volleyball and hacky sack; old folk just taking a quiet moment and stretching; people doing yoga; cyclists; runners; it really was a sight to behold and I really got the feeling that these were people who really embraced life. Vietnam had endured so much conflict in the past, but it’s people had moved on and  learned to appreciate whatever they had and however little it was. They worked hard, and looked after their health.

A great few days were spent with Shaye and Tara; sightseeing around Hanoi and just generally shooting the breeze over a few Vietnamese beers and enjoying the amazing culinary delights on offer. It was comforting to have some family around, albeit only for a short while.