Tuesday 19th December
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!
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!
Fruit or veg? I have no idea what this is!
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.
 Hidden Gem Café inside the quadrangle |  Mural of "Train Street" |
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.
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.
 Breakfast, including bánh mì (bread roll sandwich) |  Egg coffee (lower right) |
We were then allocated our scooter drivers (I would not even think about driving in Vietnam), and we hopped on the back of the bikes and set off. One of the most interesting parts of the trip was to a banana plantation (they called it "Banana island", but I could not ascertain if it was, in fact, and island or not). We stopped by some accommodation that our (excellent) guide called "floating houses". These things do what they say, and of course one huge benefit to them is that when it floods, the houses simply rise. They sound like an all-round excellent idea, until you are made aware of an important fact. The owners live on the water because all of the land in the banana plantations belongs to the government. The government do not own the top of the water, and hence people decide to "build" on it. But it means that the owners are not land-owners. As such, if you’re born here, you get no birth certificate! And with no birth certificate, so you can’t go to school. The same goes for anyone renting - you are not a land-owner. Your best hope for your children born without a birth certificate is to have them adopted by someone who owns some land. Their chances of any education without this happening, is slim.
 "Banana Island" |  Floating houses... which means these are not land-owners! |
Whilst were were at this stop, our tour guide told us an anecdote: On her very first trip a guy asked her if there were any snakes to be seen around here. She genuinely didn’t know, so she said they’d be lucky to even see a grass snake. Ten minutes later they encountered a fully grown cobra! (We did not see any snakes at all, unfortunately).
Other exciting events on the bike tour included:
Other exciting events on the bike tour included:
- A quick stop to see Ho Chi Minh's mausoleum. Our guide explained how "Uncle Ho" was a national hero. His picture appears on all of their bank notes, and of course he had Saigon renamed after him in 1975. We were told that the traffic police (who dress in yellow, and are referred to as Pikachu) have to be given a picture of Uncle Ho if you are stopped... i.e. they want money!
- A stop at Train Street. This is timed so that everyone can grab a quick drink in a café and be seated for when the train comes past. It comes ridiculously close. Centimeters. The staff all go round telling everyone to tuck their feet in. The tracks are a long way away, but the train is so, so much wider than the track. The mural of Train Street turned out to be very accurate indeet
 The real Train Street | Click to view video |
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.
| Click to view video | Click to view video |
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.
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.
 A "Pikachu" |  Outside the Opera house |
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