Dodging bikes and eating noodles in Hanoi

Night by night, this non-stop nocturnal city all comes to life without needing to sleep. Hanoi buzzes and vibrates with the rolling of thousands of humming motorbikes. They light up the darkness as I look outside the window for a Kent click cigarette. It's a toy as much as a lung blackening death stick. A stick that goes well enough with beer, tramadol and the cripple I have come here for. Light pollution gives is an ironic beauty. 

 

By way of twist of fate I have found myself back in Vietnam. Round two in the ring. I forgot how much I love Hanoi. This crazy, busy, buzzing, bustling encampment is a city of verbs. People get out to sit with each other in public with fresh Bia, to play badminton in parks and sit with babies along the sidelines as a thousand mopeds whizz by. This East is not like our West at all, and they are rightfully, fiercely proud of that fact.

There are voices of travellers flopping along streets that bend in to avenues, thick with activity. Fog follows daytime hazes, which give way to twinkling traffic light and shop signs. I feel exactly the way I did when I was last here- totally in love with the country. With so many twists, surprises and delightful occurrences, it's easy to forget every version of reality that you knew before, to forget that you have anything to do but enjoy lakeside al fresco coffees.

Hanoi has me figured out. The way to my heart is through my stomach. Noodle soups with beef, duck, chicken, maybe even dog. Throw it all in it tastes good enough for me! Bun Cha with round vermicelli noodles, bamboo shoots, spring onion and saw tooth, it’s a cleansing lemon and spicy goodness. What could be better than a nice walk around this city, to help digest these culinary treats?

Hanoi, the Paris of Vietnam. The New York of South East Asia. From towering terraced hotels and their balconies, parks that litter the city span, to the cafe culture and freedom to smoke anywhere you like. As if I needed any more proof, on a mission to pick up takeaway Vietnamese filter coffees - skimping on the condensed milk- Cafe Day Ro's interior shows me its' tribute to Paris with a wall sized poster of the Louvre. 

Patisseries, attic windows, tree-lined boulevards all hint at past colonial influence. But this is still distinctly Vietnam. At one moment you are walking down the street gazing at an ancient temple decked out with dragons, the next you have been pulled in to a seat to help people learn English. And as soon as you leave to return to your waiting disabled gent, you are navigating around mopeds, vans, pedal bikes and street vendors so that crossing the street becomes a sport. Especially for a man on crutches. 

And just when I have fully fallen for the place, birds chirping in the sculpted and stately trees to accompany the scene surrounding this lake, I look to my right to a bank strewn with litter and a man pissing with abandon in to the wind. Oh Asia, you never fail to be both consistent and surprising, only after six months, that’s no longer surprising. 

And then there is Ha Long Bay. A place to forget the outside world and anything else. Bay of the dragon, where karsts lie a mere five meters under the turquoise sea and jut sharply up to what looks like hundreds of feet. The closer formations pitch dark and inviting against their cousins in the mist behind, who appear fainter like silhouettes. Or ghosts. Or mirage. 

You melt away like the sweat in your brow, with the true meaning of drifting.