It is mayhem here. The streets are alive with noise. There
doesn’t seem to be any coordination. Right outside a nice coffee shop there
will be a woman fixing an old motor and a chicken running around. It’s busy and
the traffic is so unorganised, but somehow it works. Everyone just drives in
the direction they want, across the road, the wrong direction and even
sometimes in the right direction. Crossing the road is a lot easier than it
looks though. Quite simply step out and the bikes will go around you. Wes
wasn’t convinced, so I proved my theory by stepping out without looking and made
it across fine. Sorry Mum, probably shouldn’t have mentioned that.
We got a motorbike taxi around the city. The driver handed me a feeble excuse of a helmet. It was made from a thin bit of plastic and the buckle was broken. As we drove around I had to hold it on with my hand. In the unfortunate event that we were in an accident I don't think it was going to be of much use.
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| You'll notice everyone is driving in different directions |
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| Taking his shopping home on both handlebars and giving his mate a lift. |
We went to the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum. I didn’t know Ho Chi
Minh was a person, I’ve only known him as a city. He was the first president of
Vietnam and helped gain independence from France…I think. To be honest I’m
still not entirely sure who he was and what he did. I was too hungover to
really learn that much about him. He must have been pretty important to have
had a city named after him. I ought to read up about him.
We later went to the Maison Centrale Prison. Built by the
French to imprison and torture any Vietnamese who opposed their rule, and later
housed American pilots that crashed and landed in Vietnam. John McCain was
imprisoned there. It puts my complaints of being hungover into
perspective.
Back at the hostel and both Wes and I agreed that we must not
get drunk that night as we’re getting picked up for a boat trip at 6am. You can
imagine what happened next. This one was my fault to be honest. I was easily
attracted to the 3-hour happy hour – with one of those hours of FREE beer. I’m
not entirely sure what time we retired to bed, but only a few hours later we
were up and preparing ourselves for a 6-hour journey to Ha Long Bay. Bus, boat,
bus, and another boat journey and we made it. And when we got there all of our
complaints were forgotten as this was to be our home for the next few days.
A tropical, hidden paradise. No wifi and no connection with
normal society. Just and incredible view and a few beers.
Unfortunately the island was already inhabited by a group of
people called “reps”. These people are employed to make sure you have a “good
time”.
Wearing the typical uniform of flip flops, shorts, a baseball hat on
backwards and a very loose fitting tank top. They often shout through a
microphone “who’s ready to have a good time?!” Just shhh. I want to have a good
time, but stop shouting. Give us some safety information, tell us where is the
first-aid box is and put some music on. The rest will take care of itself.
Drinking from 1pm is dangerous. If there was a competition
for who got the drunkest I definitely won and partly down to Wes. One of the
rules of the beach bar is that if you ring the gong hanging nearby you must buy
everyone a drink. Wes turns to me and asks “should I ring that gong?” to which
I have the easiest answer for him. “Yes. Yes, you definitely should”. He did.
Twice. He has more money than sense and he doesn’t have that much money.
The next day there was very little time to rest and enjoy the
scenery as we were on a booze cruise at 10am. Yes, 10am. It was a pretty sweet
day of meeting new people, kayaking through Ha Long Bay, and drinking. It’s a
truly beautiful place.
Two days on that island is enough though. After 2 days of
very intense partying, no sleep, eating the same food for breakfast, lunch and
dinner, sleeping in a sandy bed, getting sunburnt, being hungover, and having
to listen to those reps constantly shouting I was ready to go. Unfortunately
for me we had the 6-hour journey back to Hanoi ahead. I was suicidal.
I am currently writing this edition from an overnight sleeper
train from Hanoi to Hue. It’s peaceful and I’m going to get the first good
night’s sleep in since leaving England.
It’s almost been a month since I stopped working, travelled
to England, back to Seoul, and have been enjoying myself in Vietnam. It’s
moments like this one that you appreciate the small things. A bed free of sand,
a non-alcoholic drink, and time to rest.
