Xin chao (‘hello’ for the un-informed out there) and welcome to ‘Nam!

So, following our fourth flight in 4 days we arrived in Vietnams capital city, Hanoi, in the early hours of the morning on the 24/10. As organised as ever we had booked ourselves into the Hanoi Guesthouse, which was situated in the old quarter of the city and had page after page of positive reviews. The place also offered a pickup from the airport (for a price) which was good news.

As we emerged into the arrivals hall to the sight of hordes of taxi drivers fighting for fares and various boards with names scribbled across them, none of them seemed to be the “Mr.Mark” we were looking for. After surveying the scene for a minute or two though we spotted a young fellow having a chat, with his card with my name on it - which we were supposed to look out for - by his side. Useful.
After flagging the young chap down and trying to make him understand that he was in fact waiting for us we eventually headed off out towards the car.

First off though, as driver chappy went to fetch the car we realised that neither of us actually had any money of any use in Vietnam so I ran off in search of a cash point. I found one, checked the balance quickly, and for a brief moment went weak at the knees and almost soiled myself at the sight of several zero’s at the end of the figure. Sadly it soon dawned on me that this country has a stupidly inflated economy with about 29,000 dong to the pound. Balls.

After withdrawing 2,000,000 (yes, that’s two MILLION), I ran off back outside to the car. Matey was trying to haul our bags into the boot, so being the kind hearted soul that I am I offered my assistance. It appeared that in his haste he had left the boot open so I kindly proceeded to slam it shut for him - without noticing that the poor laddies hand was still in the boot. Erm, whoops…

After a big THUD, driver chap then performed a kind of twirly dance around the car park whilst shaking his hand around furiously as his fingers grew to around twice the recommended size. I felt pretty bad. Unfortunately his English was about as good as my Vietnamese so I couldn’t even say sorry. He didn’t look amused.

The drive back to Hanoi, which is about 45 minutes by car, was to be our first taste of Vietnamese roads. It was some insight. It seems that in Vietnam the number one instrument on any good motor is the horn. Without one you may as well write the thing off as useless. Basically, he who beeps the loudest gains right of way and if that doesn’t swing the deal, don’t panic, just flash your lights furiously as well.

The drive back was a horn toting epileptics nightmare.

There is no such thing as lanes, give way, one way, no entry or pedestrian crossings. Red lights are a signal to accelerate and paths are not for pedestrians but are in fact scooter parks.

Seat belts are non-existent and the number of seats bears no indication on the number of human beings a vehicle can carry.

Did you know that the average scooter can carry at least 5 human beings? Seemingly they can also carry two people AND an instustry standard sized single bed. Honestly, it is pretty amazing some of the things these people manage to haul onto the backs of scooters - and survive. We have even heard stories of live buffalo being loaded onto the backs of scooters for transportation. No, seriously.

It was touch and go but we did arrive at 14 Bat Su, in the old quarter of Hanoi at about 8am local time, to be greeted at the door by two of the friendliest hotel receptionists either of us had ever met. They promptly sat us down and served us breakfast and a bottle of cold water each before carrying our bags up the four flights of stairs to our room for us. I did outwardly attempt to protest and take them myself but inside I was more than happy to have them lug my bag of breeze blocks up the four flights. Im not even ashamed to admit it.

After breakfast “Mr and Mrs Mark” headed off to bed, exhausted after another early morning flight.

After a few hours, refreshed we returned to reception and the ever smiling girls patrolling the counter with one thing on our mind - food.

After consultation with the receptionists they recommended ‘The Little Hanoi’ restaurant, which also happens to be one of the recommended places in our guide book, so off we went, out into the absolute chaos that is Hanoi city.

As we stepped out into the road we were like the stereotypical rabbits in the headlights as thousands of scooters along with bicycles and cars flew by in every direction - at the same time (no give ways remember), narrowly avoiding head on collisions as well as the brave/suicidal folks stupid enough to step foot into the street. Its hard to describe but the word chaos does sum it up pretty nicely.

After summoning all of our inner courage we eventually hot footed it across the road, following the lead of a couple of local women who seemed to not have a care in the world as they calmly strolled across whilst chatting, with scooters and cyclists swerving to avoid them. It doesn’t get any better, although you do eventually get used to it and end up, as the locals do, not even looking at whats coming and just strolling across, nice and slowly so as not to confuse the crazy scooter drivers too much.

The old quarter in Hanoi is also seriously easy to lose yourself in. It’s a pretty big area consisting of really narrow streets lined with old, dilapidated, French colonial style buildings in a complicated labyrinth that seems to have been designed to confuse. If that was the case, it works.

Anyway, after wondering around for a while watching on in disbelief and awe at the city going about its daily routine we eventually found ourselves at the famed Little Hanoi restaurant.

It was full of foreigners, not a single local in sight, which usually would put us off, but well, this place was recommended by the guide book as well as some locals so we gave it a shot anyway. It turned out to be ok, about 5 quid for three mains between us and a beer each (not bad all things considered!). Not even close to the standards set by the Jalan Alor in Kuala Lumpur though it has to be said.

For the rest of the night we took a stroll around the old quarters weekly night market, which sold everything from counterfeight football shirts and anything Adidas through to Mr.Beans very own ‘Teddy’.

This place was absolutely heaving with locals. Fierce negotiation was in the air and deals were being closed everywhere you looked. Neither of us are particularly confident at bartering but we were going to have to learn here to survive.

The next morning (after breakfast) we again took our lives in our hands and stepped out, although a little more confidently this time, into the Strikingly humid Hanoi morning, heading off towards the Hoan Kiem Lake, which is just off the old quarter in the centre of the city.

The lake itself is a welcome relief from the concrete mass of the old quarter and is actually quite nice, with Ngoc Son Temple sitting on a small island just off the north part of the lake, within it is housed the giant embalmed remains of the giant tortoise allegedly from the lake itself. The temple is also home to a rather vicious stump tailed feline. I keep trying to tell Aimee that cats are evil. Unfortunately she likes to find out the hard way…

A short walk away and next on our agenda was the Hao Lo Prison, interestingly nicknamed the ‘Hanoi Hilton’ by the American prisoners held captive here during the war. The prison is worth a visit, although the extent of the propaganda is pretty striking, with everything French vilified in terms of the suffering of the Vietnamese freedom fighters imprisoned here during French rule, whereas in contrast the painting of a virtual holiday camp experience for the Americans during their stay here at the hands of the ‘friendly’ Vietnamese (in stark contrast to American accounts I would imagine, such as a certain Senator, John McCain, who still cannot raise his arms above his head due to torture suffered here).

Still, as I say, worth a visit if you have time.

After leaving the prison, frankly it had been at least a couple of hours since our last feed so it was high time for some food. Aimee had her heart set on a guidebook recommended ice cream parlour with a pretty awesome name. All youse with dirty minds control yourselves for a moment. Someone thought long and hard about this one…

Fanny’s.

Seriously, what a great name.

Fanny’s boasts a variety of flavours including ‘com’ (sticky rice), or ‘mang cau’ (custard apple). We stuck to the trusted chocolate and raspberry sorbet. It was ok but to be honest, nothing special. If you ever end up in Hanoi, id say give this place a wide berth and pick up a cornetto from the street vendors instead.

The rest of the day we spent wandering around the old quarter practicing our polite response of “Com, Cam On” (No, Thanks) to the endless offerings of scooter rides through to post cards and bananas.

The next morning Ho Chi Minh, the legendary leader of the Vietnamese people, was on our mind. Specifically his mauseleum complex, situated a 20 or so minute walk away from the old quarter and boasting his tomb (although unfortunately it was closed whilst his remains were sent to Moscow for annual ‘maintainance’), his royal palace and home during his lifetime, along with his famous ‘house on stilts’.

As we arrived at the complex and walked along the front of the tomb it was almost comical to see guards all decked out in pristine white uniforms furiously whistling at anyone who dared cross the painted lines bordering the perimeter of the tomb building. The complex is pretty big and our first stop was the presidential palace which is housed along the side of a purpose built lake, which also sits in front of Mr.Minh’s previous home and place of work. You can also view three of the fleet of luxury cars that the former ruler used to have at his disposal.

To be honest its all pretty hypocritical really as you walk round these lavish grounds, considering the fact that this man apparently stood for the priciple of all being equal and all things in modesty and moderation. The simple life rules? Hmmm…

At the other side of the lake from the previous home of Mr.Minh was the final home he used, the house on stilts.

Unfortunately, your not even allowed into any of these buildings, you simply get to walk past them. Aimee tried to have a look at one of the books on a table in the house on stilts and was promptly, and quite ferociously, whistled at by a guard.

Neither of us were particularly impressed by this place to be honest. Nice enough, but you don’t really even get to see anything.

After departing the mausoleum complex and deciding that the Ho Chi Minh museum sounded pretty boring, we had decided to head off in search of…

…yep, you guessed it, food.

It was about this stage that a local chap approached me and began with the usual speil, asking where I was from and which football team I supported. I knew he was angling to sell us something I just wasn’t sure what yet.

Turned out he was the proud owner of a Xich Lo (basically a bicycle rickshaw, or bike with a big throne-like seat thing at the front) and was on the hunt for passengers.

We knew that the café we were looking for was only a few blocks away but well, what the hey, you’ve gotta to give it a bash while you’re here havent you.
After some brief haggling with the guy we agreed on a fee of 25,000 dong (about 90p).

So, in we got, in our little red throne style seat with our ever-willing driver sat over our shoulder peddling away, through the manic streets of Hanoi, narrowly missing oncoming scooters and at one stage jumping a red light. We also happened to notice - AFTER climbing aboard said Xich Lo - that our driver just so happened to be missing an arm.
As we peered behind us we could see him effortlessly swapping handlebars with his single arm in order to turn corners as well as dodge potentially fatal accidents.

Theres definitely a one armed bandit joke here somewhere but I havent found it just yet…

The ride was about 5 minutes or so before we arrived on the street mentioned, that also housed our café of choice, the KOTO café. KOTO standing for ‘know one teach one’, which is a non-profit organisation run by former street kids and set up to provide opportunies for current street kids. It was a little more expensive than most places but worth the extra we thought, and as it turned out, worth it for the food alone which was really good (chilli burger is definitely worth a mention).

Again the majority of the rest of the day was spent strolling around the streets before heading back to the hotel and booking ourselves onto a couple of tours, firstly a two night, three day tour to Halong Bay, which would be leaving tomorrow morning, following which, on the Wednesday coming, the three nights, two days tour of Sapa.

Once again we were off to the room to pack our bags ready for yet another departure…