Vietnam: Expect the unexpected

‘No good black taxi. Not take’ read the scrawled writing on the back of the customs form that had been thrust into our hands. It was late evening and we’d landed at Hanoi airport, flustered and sweaty from our grim, airless flight. We considered this – except when we left the relative haven of the terminal, we couldn’t see any black cabs. “So… maybe they don’t run this late?” my friend wondered out loud. We settled on a mini-van full of locals. Bearing in mind we had absolutely no clue how far we were from Hanoi city, the price seemed more than reasonable. We gave the driver the name of the hostel and off we set.

After about 2 hours sat in Hanoi rush-hour traffic, we became slightly concerned when we were the only ones left on the bus. Eventually arriving at the hostel we were greeted by a smiling woman and quickly shown a room: very ‘shabby chic’ and a great price with air con. It was only after we’d paid up that my friend told me this was a totally different guesthouse from the one we’d asked the driver for. Unfortunately I’d made the fatal mistake of allowing her to take charge on this occasion; the driver had obviously taken us to his sister’s/aunt’s/friend’s guesthouse. Having already paid it was too late to protest.

Our hostel was based in the centre of the old town, opposite a shop selling bamboo scaffolding, in the midst of a labyrinth of streets lined with local restaurants and overrun by mopeds. The sights, sounds and smells were at once utterly overwhelming and totally exhilarating. My companion was in total shock after the calm of Luang Prabang to be among the chaos of Hanoi, whereas I savoured every mad moment.

First stop was the Ho Chi Minh mausoleum. Beware of strange opening times: I seem to remember it closing at 11am but your guidebook will tell you as it’s a tourist hotspot. The mausoleum makes for a somewhat disquieting experience. Once divested of all belongings – bags, cameras, hats, and of course covered up from shin to shoulder – tourists are herded towards the tomb. Unfortunately we had slept late and were forced to sprint to the entrance, rather than soak in the daunting sight of the looming grey Parthenon-style structure as we approached. Inside it is bitterly cold in contrast to the heat of late morning. The embalmed body of the famous communist leader looks like frail plastic inside a glass coffin, surrounded by motionless guards. Visitors are not allowed to pause in this room; you must walk around the tomb and then leave immediately, a conveyor belt of gawping tourists. It all feels somewhat tasteless, yet fascinating nonetheless.

Close by is Halong Bay, for which we booked a tour at our hostel (all of which double up as travel agents). After a short bus ride we arrived at the harbour, with beautiful junk boats moored as far as the eye could see. Unfortunately it seemed we were never to escape the crowds during our time at Halong. The scenery is undeniably beautiful and the floating villages fascinating, but for us it proved impossible to escape from the company of ten other junks crammed full of other tourists doing exactly the same thing. For me this is sadly the overriding memory of the tour, and thus I would recommend no more than a one-night package. It is also advisable to avoid Halong City; a mess of dreary, pallid high rise hotels and flickering neon signs proffering ‘happy massages’.

From our hostel we had also procured two open bus tickets from Hanoi to Ho Chi Minh City. We paid $50 for the promise of an air conditioned sleeper bus with onboard toilet. However I guarantee you will not find a functioning loo on ANY of these buses, so shop around and you can pay 40 bucks. The buses are actually a fantastic way to see a lot of Vietnam in a short time – they provide reasonably comfortable ‘beds’ for overnight travel, meaning you save the price of overnight accommodation and don’t miss any sightseeing time during the day. There are about eight stops down the coast with a few different routes.

First we jumped off at Hue, the old imperial capital. Absolutely the best way to see the city’s attractions is to take a moto-tour. For a matter of a few dollars you can be chauffeured around for a day. We managed to pack in the Forbidden City, former home to the Emperor, the Thien Mu Pagoda, part of a charming temple complex complete with resident monks clad in sunny orange robes, as well as two of the many Royal Tombs the city is known for. If you have time for only one, it must be the tomb of Khai Dinh: an extraordinary setup, the tomb building lies at the top of a steep incline, surrounded by a shadowy stone complex and flanked by dozens of stone warriors.

After another relatively uneventful overnight journey we pulled up at Hoi An. There are two stops for the bus here, which inevitably causes great confusion. After arguing with hoteliers who had invaded the bus seeking custom, we disembarked at the first stop, excited by the promise of air con, free push-bikes and a POOL! The Thao Nguyên hotel is situated 30 seconds out of town on Cua Dai Road, and it’s an absolute bargain, easily the most luxurious digs we had in 3 months and for $4 each!

The local way to travel here is by push-bike, and the whole town is totally flat which is a bonus. Cycle down to the river and you’ll discover a picturesque vision of ramshackle wooden buildings and narrow, tree-lined streets packed with shops selling local crafts and brightly coloured paintings. If you can stand the mosquitoes, the riverbank is the perfect setting for a dinner of local cuisine at dusk, as the coloured lanterns hanging outside the restaurants are lit up around you.

Hoi An is famed for its tailors: full to the brim with huge rolls of silk, cotton and chiffon piled ten feet high, they can be found by the dozen on every street. There are thousands of patterns to choose from, and you can take in your own ideas which they’ll copy. The women in these shops are absolutely amazing: they can knock out a perfectly fitting suit for under $20 in 24 hours. Do yourself a favour by avoiding the rather soulless Nha Trang and instead make the 2 mile flat cycle east from Hoi An to Cua Dai beach, where you can avoid the pushy tat-sellers and club reps of Nha Trang beach. There you can watch the local fishermen come and go, refreshed by constantly replenished ice-cold soft drinks (buy these in return for free sun-bed use).

With our time in Vietnam drawing to a close, we drew into Ho Chi Minh City. Again the old town is backpacker central. We found one of a chain of three hotels run by ‘Madame Cuc’, immaculately clean and relatively modern, with free breakfast included for as little as $4 per night (if you push). Breakfast in Vietnam is invariably a baguette (an ex-French colony with an everlasting love for this foodstuff) but take a walk around one of the many hectic open air markets and you can pick up half a fresh pineapple or a huge wedge of watermelon for virtually nothing. You’ll also notice in Vietnam that the women seem to spend all day parading around in brightly coloured pyjamas. If you really want to immerse yourself in the local spirit, pick up a set in one of the markets around the town for around £1. I dare you…!

A trip to HCMC is incomplete without exploring the Reunification palace, home to the President of South Vietnam during the War, and the site of the handover of power during the Fall of Saigon on April 30, 1975. There are free guided tours here which, lasting just over an hour, offer a fabulous insight into the history of the city. Just outside the main gates of the palace compound we found the hangout for trendy locals, complete with blasting speakers and a long list of strange, syrupy thirst-quenching concoctions. Ordering proved fun as none of the staff spoke a single word of English, but it was still a great stop-off after an intense morning of mind-expansion! The War Remnants Museum made for a heart-rending yet essential visit uncovering the appalling history of our host nation. On the rainy, glum afternoon we arrived, the building looked particularly ominous. Displays dedicated to the effects of Agent Orange and methods of torture are followed by room after room of harrowing war photographs. One is left with a profound new respect for the Vietnamese, as well as a slightly bitter taste in the mouth.

During my brief sortie in Vietnam I discovered a staggering country, full of wonderful quirks and yet haunted by an all too memorable recent history. The Vietnamese have their own special way of looking after tourists, preferring to keep business in the family rather than take you where you actually ask to go. But it is undoubtedly better to simply go with the flow and see what hidden gem you unearth for yourself.