I slept terribly. I tossed and turned from 02:00-03:00, and then eventually got up and grabbed my phone. I spent an hour or more listening to Ishiguro on Audible before I eventually felt tired enough to sleep again. When I woke up at 09:30 I still didn’t want to get up, but I’d booked a motorbike tour at 12:30, and I already felt guilty about so much of my day.

It was still quite cold when I left the hotel. I received a few texts from my "tour guide" telling me to ensure I was hungry for the trip, as they had lots of food experiences planned.

Given how hectic and chaotic the traffic is, with few rules whatsoever apart from the occasional traffic light - the locals actually drive around whilst using their phones. Some are just glancing at a map, but yesterday I actually saw a guy on a motorbike watching a show. I don’t think it was a full film, but neither was it YouTube. I’m pretty sure he’d downloaded something to watch on his bike!  Others, because it’s cold, drive with their left hand in their pockets. Having said all of that, I didn’t see a near miss, let alone an accident. It’s like watching fish swim in a busy tank, gliding by, but somehow managing to avoid one another.

Incidentally, as I mentioned earlier, the Grab bike drivers all have a spare crash helmet. They remind you they need it back, because twice I’ve handed over cash and then gone to walk away with their crash helmet still on my head.

There is so much going on in these streets, so many shops, I swear you could walk down one a hundred times and still see something new each time. Some of the wares - I’m not even sure if they were fruits or vegetables - could have been straight out of Star Wars!

The office for the motorbike tour was called “Hidden Gem Café”, and like Leo’s Tavern the day before, you could easily miss it.  It was down a narrow alleyway, up a set of metal stairs.  There was a kind of open quadrangle, decorated with hanging vines, old bicycles and lanterns. There was a rooftop bar, but from here there’s not much of a view. They did seem to have a thing for old bicycles and motorbike parts. It was very eco, and a lot of the decoration comprised reused bits of almost anything. There was also a large mural on the wall of the famous “Train Street”, which we were due to visit.

ur group of six was herded together into a little room.  One of the group, a lady called Trish, took it upon herself to ensure everyone introduced themselves.  She was with her husband, John, and their 17 year-old son, Harrison.  There was an American lady called Linda, and I did not catch (or remember) the name of the lady from Denmark.  The introductions really, really worked, as we all felt like a group immediately, and I swear it made the trip so much better than it could have been with a bunch of individuals not talking to each other.

We were issued with breakfast, which was an assortment of Vietnamese dishes to try including noodles, a bread roll that I later understood to be called bánh mì, and spring rolls.  We were then asked if we would like to try egg coffee!  Originally this was created because a waiter had once seen or heard of cappuccino, but he had no fresh milk.  So he tried egg white, lots of sugar, and "happy water" (rice wine). It tastes a million times better than it sounds.  You give it a good stir, and it's a bit like a tiramisu​.

The final part of the tour took us down some impossibly narrow alleyways.  Our feet, and sometimes even the handlebars of the bike, were scraping the walls as we went down.  After negotiating these alleyways for a while, we eventually popped out at the "black market".  Apparently, this is run by the mafia.  If your moped (or anything else) goes missing, you can come here.  A nice man will quickly find it for you, and you can buy it back.  Make of that what you will.

​We finished off with a tour of a the "wet market".  This is not something for the squeamish, or indeed for vegetarians at all.  Like the Chinese, the Vietnamese do not seem to waste any part of an animal.  There were cages stuffed with live chickens, ducks and pigeons. Tables with raw meat - pigs trotters and noses, slabs of unidentifiable meat. Like many Asian countries, the Vietnamese know where the food comes from... and that doesn't mean Tesco.  In the cafes you see dishes such as spicy pickled chicken feet.  But there are also an abundance of vegetarian and vegan restaurants to be found.

After a final stop outside the Opera house for a quick photo, the tour was over and we all said goodbye before going our own way.  It was still cold, and there was no prospect of it getting any warmer for my final day in Hanoi.  I had planned to get a new tattoo in Saigon (the locals still prefer this name), but it was due to be lovely weather down south, and it seemed a shame to spend a day in the tattooist when I could be in the sun.  When it was cold up north however....

As with many of the shops (like the buttons), many of the tattooists seemed to be grouped together.  I only had one full day left, and it was currently evening time.  I needed to find somewhere who had a vacancy for the next day, and could get finished what I wanted done.  (Incidentally, tattoos are like climbing mountains, apparently:  If you have to ask someone why they do it, you will not understand the answer.  If you can understand the answer, you would have no need of asking the question).

The first place I tried did not have any artists available at such short notice.  I was not surprised, but I thought I may as well ask at a few other studios.  But the staff in the second place were fantastic, and after quite a lengthy consultation I booked an appointment for the next morning.

When I got up and ventured out, the first thing I noticed was how cold it was in Hanoi! In the build up to coming I'd been checking the weather, and though I knew the north to be much colder that it would be when I got south to Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon), it had still looked to be around 24 degrees C.  That had all seemed to changed the day I touched down, and it was now around 16-17.  I had only bought a thin hoody, intended mostly for the flight out, but now I was going to have to wear it for the duration of my stay in Hanoi, as I only had short-sleeved shirts.

The second thing I noticed, which was admittedly less unexpected, was the chaotic traffic. Rules in the road, if there are any, seem to be drive on the right. Mainly.  But even this rule was regularly ignored by the many, many motorcycles.  I'd text my friend Billy to tell him where I was, and his reply was, "Land of the Vespa!"  Crossroads were just insane - they have to be seen to be believed.

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I'll get on to talk about the shops in a minute, but something I quickly noticed was that some enterprising locals don’t own shops at all - they laden their scooters with an absolutely insane amount of goods, and drive around with loud speakers announcing their wares.

I remember thinking that Esta would hate her first impressions of this place, because when navigating the streets there is no room to walk on the pavements, as it's either full of shop stock or parked scooters!  There’s no choice but to walk in the road. You have to boss it - own your space. Or you’ll either just be crowded out, or you simply won't get anywhere at all.  I quickly worked out that you just don’t stop walking. At least not when you’re on the road. If you need to stop, you find somewhere to "pull over" - otherwise you just keep on walking, however slowly. Crossing the road, no matter how busy it is, and this rule applies even more than ever.  Stopping just confuses everyone around you. It’s probably people stopping that causes any accidents. Luckily I didn’t see any of those.

Dinner in the evening was at a BBQ stall on the corner of a busy road. I’d seen an Indian restaurant which tempted me, but the smell of the BBQ, along with how busy it was, just tempted me too much. I was still struggling with the currency, because it’s insane. Each skewer cost 10,000VND… which worked out at just 38p each!  Next to me, as I ate, there was a stall churning out fried banana fritters. It was a constant cycle of cooking.

The backpacker’s mode of transport here is called Grab. You install the app, and like Uber you can hail a ride within minutes. This could be a 7 seater car, or just a moped.  

I tried out a motorbike to get back to the hotel. You just have to trust the driver. It’s fun, and it costs pennies! They all carry spare crash helmets for the passengers they pick up.

Discovering the Grab transport was excellent. It meant that after going back to the hotel to lather myself with mosquito lotion, I could just completely and utterly wander at random. “Lost” was a concept that applied itself 100meters from the hotel anyway, so after that it was irrelevant. I took random lefts and rights, going down whatever street looked busy and interesting. It was very dark by 18:00, so the lights of the shops and restaurants just lead me on.  Had it not been for some loud Americans, I would have completely missed Leo’s tavern. But as I had to stop and try and find a way around them, the rep outside tempted me down a tiny alleyway and upstairs to a hidden gem with a balcony overlooking the street.  Little escapes from the chaos like these were a wonderful way to step away from the mayhem and view it from a safe distance.

Sitting in Leo's, I reflected that Hanoi reminded me a lot of Kathmandu - which doesn’t help if you’ve not been there either, but both a chaotic, yet somehow also feel safe. Everyone’s on a hustle, just trying to make a buck (or in this case, a few hundred thousand Vietnamese Dong).

The BBQ didn’t fill me up much, so after another hour or two of wandering I found myself in a really busy area, full of tourists and bars playing loud music. Somehow, out of all the Vietnamese places, I ended up sitting outside a Mexican bar, chowing down on smoked buffalo! At least the beer was Vietnamese.  By the time I'd chewed on the meat (I needed the beer to help wash it down), I'd had enough for day one.

Earlier this year, after a great holiday together in Barbados, my family asked if they could have a Christmas at home, rather than go somewhere warm and sunny. (I know, I don't get it either).  I wasn't overly happy about it, but they agreed that if they stayed at home, then I could go on a trip alone.  But, rather than travel somewhere we would all go, I decided to visit a location that would not be on the family to-do list.  Hence Vietnam.  I spent some time researching what I could do, and where I could realistically go in a total of nine days, and December came round before I knew it.

Vietnam is seven hours ahead of the UK.  This was one reason that it's not on the list of places the family really want to visit for such a short time.  You need a while to get over the jet lag.  Having been "practicing" early mornings for around a week or so, I got up at just after 3:30.  We'd had our family Christmas the night before, and Chloe and Lewis's friend Ben had joined us for a meal, drinks, and Lewis’s annual Christmas game.  I'd had to go to bed shortly after 21:00 in order to be up on time! Once awake, knowing that I’d be sitting on my bum for around 14 hours afterwards (what with the journey to Heathrow, waiting around, and then the 12 hour flight itself)... I went for a 10km walk at around 04:00.  It was a very mild December morning, with a slight cloud cover, but many stars were still visible and there was only a cool breeze blowing.  
 
Cam picked my up promptly at 07:00.  Having missed my previous two flights, both to and from Berlin, I was paranoid about missing this flight. If I did, for whatever reason, I’m not sure I’d have been able to afford a replacement.  Repaying the cost of a short-haul trip to Germany was one thing…. Doing the same thing for a long-haul flight almost half-way round the world was another!  In the end the traffic was clear, and as the skies began to lighten in the dark winter month of December, we were treated to the sights of red-tail kites hovering and hunting in the early morning thermals.  There were no incidents on the motorways, and Cam dropped me off at Heathrow T4 well before 09:00 for my 11:00 flight.
 
I’d been less than impressed with my experience of Vietnam Airlines up to this point.  I’d been unable to check in on line, as an error kept occurring telling me there was an issue with my ticket.  However, once at Heathrow I checked in at the counter without any problems, so I still have no idea what the issue was.  I cleared security in minutes and from this point, knowing there should now be nothing more I could do, the excitement really began to build – the adventure was genuinely under way, and I was not going to miss my flight!

The queue at the departures gate was chaotic. It was as if, even in the realms of Heathrow, I’d suddenly left a first-world country. The was no real queue to speak of, just a jumble of people gathered for a flight which, bizarrely enough, we all already had allocated seats for. What is the human rationale that still drives us all to be the first to those already-allocated seats? Such a huge rush (admittedly me included) to sit down for even longer than the scheduled 12 hour flight.

To be fair, there is a genuine reason for this behaviour- or at least one that I use to justify my own semi-irrational need to get into that spherical-flying device so early: we all want our luggage directly overhead. We don’t want to walk a few steps left or right to get it. So by barging our way to the front of a queue for our already-allocated seat, we may have quicker access to our overhead luggage during the flight. I guess I certainly fall into that category of manic passengers myself.

Once onboard, I removed my sandals. I was travelling light, my electronics (power bank, cables, adaptor) probably weighed as much as my few clothes, and I put on a pair of warm socks. I thought I was being prepared for the flight - the young passenger next to me (very young, she looked around 14?) had a quilt and pillow with her.

The flight was somewhat unremarkable. The food was well presented and looked delicious, yet was all-but tasteless. (Dinner was braised beef - very fatty. Breakfast was omelette and a sausage. It was all very much like army food - functional, but designed to upset nobody except those expecting any sort of flavour whatsoever. The breakfast came with around 13 baked beans. It did, however, also come with a croissant which Will would have loved. And on the whole, given the choice, I think that  I’d take an unremarkable flight every time, rather than risk the extremes).

I never used the in-flight entertainment system, but instead listened to Ishiguro (surely one of the greatest masters of the modern written word) and watched Star Wars on my iPad. The seat was ok and I woke up (after a few glasses of wine) just in time for breakfast, around 03:00 local time. From this point, I stopped using UK time.

I was quite surprised that even when we told we were landing, with the obligatory message about tray tables, seatbelts and seats being in the upright position - that it was all still pitch-dark outside. There was as yet no sign of any cities or civilisation.

The landing was kind of sudden. One minute there was no sign of life, then there were lights, and before I knew it we’d landed.

Immigration and customs were and absolute breeze, and as planned, I went straight to a counter to buy a Vietnamese sim for my phone. This had been advised on various travel sites, as the sims need to be formally registered, and it’s just much easier if you get someone experienced to help you. At these counters they do thousands of them, and by the time I’d bent down to get the cash out of my bag, the lady had sellotape my old sim to the inside of my phone case, inserted the new one, and with a quick snap on her work phone she took my picture and the job was done.

The driver was not there when I got to the pickup point - column 10. Maybe the flight was early. Maybe he was late. I was tired by this point, but I was in a brand new country, so I was excited. Less than 10 minutes later a guy arrived with a sign bearing my name, and we were in the car and off.

I completely lost track of time on the way to the hotel. I think it was around a 30, maybe even 40 minute drive, but I was too busy looking around. Check in was painless, as I’d been in contact in advance to tell them I needed to check in from the night before. It was 07:00. I dropped my bag in my room, and went out immediately for a quick beer in a cafe almost directly opposite. It was still dark, few people were about, so I drank up and then went back to lay my head down for a few hours.