Uncle Ho (to-the-Chi, Minh), he's my nephew. This is where his crib is at, and where his crew still run the streets. They even got him in da sky wid my homeboy Biggy. Or something. Hanoi is a bad place, that allows bad people to do bad things, but they think they're good. Even though they're bad. ================================= The first, and perhaps only, thing of real significance to happen here was me being robbed. It wasn't so much the money, it was more the fact that they had a piece on them. A meat cleaver to be precise. Fortunately for these clowns I wasn't packing heat. I was all up in his face, but I'm no match for a full city of racists. This guy pulled the meat cleaver on me in broad daylight, in full view of at least 1 other person. I think he knew what the score was. When I created a scene, it was me who was put at risk. There's an unwritten rule out here apparently that if a Vietnamese person gets involved in a fight with a Westerner, there must be good cause, and so random young guys will automatically take the view that you're causing trouble. (Apparently they're not scared to get involved either, but I reckon this is paranoid nonsense...maybe.) Anyway, me and Jenny were on a motorbike tour of Hanoi, meaning we were on separate bikes. On the way home, Jenny's driver sped off, and before I could enquire my driver zipped down a sidestreet and stopped, claiming to have no gas left. He needed his money ($5) upfront, and also his mate's to cover the petrol costs. I refused to give anything more than $5, but eventually gave in when things turned nasty. He demanded 800,000 Vietnamese Dong ($70) on top of the $10 I had given him already. I laughed, said goodbye, and walked away. But then he called me over again saying something about me not being able to find Jenny. I went back over to him (where he was now in full conversation with another man - they seemed to have an understanding), and he offered to show me the petrol tank under the seat, to justify asking for the $70. Instead, under the seat he had a meat cleaver, which he pulled out by the blade and said "with you I am nice, with others I am not". I reacted as only I could by saying goodbye and walking away, but again he mentioned Jenny, and I realised the same would be happening to her. He told me to get back on the bike (presumably because we were causing a scene), and that I wouldn't see my friend until I had paid him. I refused to pay but he drove on, stopping every few hundred metres demanding more money. Eventually I lost it a little bit, and now I realise how absurd it must have looked with me on the back of a moto, screaming in the ear of my driver along quiet streets ("give me the mo..." "never. you can get yersel..."). Other moto drivers just looked at me in disgust, and when I asked anyone for a bit of help, they seemed to have forgotten even the most basic English. Anyway, he carried on with his threats about not seeing my friend until I paid, and made it clear that my choices were him teaching me a lesson ('you no pay, I take you somewhere near my house'), or me being left in the middle of nowhere only to make my way to where Jenny was supposed to be, where I'd find she was not there, perhaps wandering around another part of town. I think I was right to give him the amount I did (two installments of 300,000, with EVERY intention of getting it back), and also to think that perhaps I was going to have trouble finding Jenny. I also feel I had reason to worry about Jenny more generally, because if I was putting up a fight and being aggresive, God only knows what she was up to. I can just imagine it - 'give me $70 dollars'. 'how's about naw ya f***ing sp*zzy?' Exuent all but Jenny, laughing, striding off with moto driver's wallet in hand Anyway, it continued in the same fashion for a while until I convinced him I was out of cash, and that we'd need to find Jenny to get money, before the crowd worked out what was going on. So, he took me to where Jenny was supposed to be, just as dusk was approaching, but she wasn't there. Obviously, I got a bit of a fright, and did the nut again. He demanded the money over and over, until most of the street was watching, whilst I just repeated what I was going to do to him (which was of course, send a full report to the tourist police, sit back, and let justice take its course) unless he told me where Jenny was. He completely panicked, and tried to speed off a number of times, but I grabbed the handlebars and the back of his bike so he couldn't go. The last time I did this, he nearly came right off the bike onto the street, and finally gave in. The crowd was just too interested in why I was so angry. He took me a further 500 metres down the street where Jenny had been dropped off, clearly as an intimidation tactic. Apparently Jenny's driver gave her the change, but laughed as he drove off saying 'don't worry, and don't move from here, your friend will be here soon...'. I leapt off the bike when I saw Jenny, but then I remebered I wanted my $70 back, so I chased after him. He was to fast for me, and the crowd that gathered seemed genuinely concerned until one of them asked what was wrong. $70 and a meat clear is nothing apparently ('so?' one young guy asked), and I had to concur. It was never mentioned again. But no, obviously it was more the ordeal that was the problem. Pretty unpleasant, they knew what they were doing. I'm glad I went down fighting though, and that I managed to retain most of the money I had on me. I really feel like Hemmingway now. Whatever that means. b******s. One interesting note: My personal thief for the day was maybe the greatest moralistic criminal ever to have existed. I now realise that all his chat was merely a justification for the horrendous crime he was about to commit. Oh how he struggled with his conscience! For example, "for you is good time cheap here, for me no"; "the mafia make me pay for the taxi, or i will have a cut hand" [whilst pointing at a guy in a haiwaiian shirt collecting money from one of two pizza delivery men]; "i wait a long time for you, and now I am tired and hungry" [yes, and that's why I offered you a generous amount for the 1hr45 minutes, even when you took me to all the wrong places! - for example, 7kms out of town at the museum of ethnology (racisim) when I wanted to go to the lake for dinner!]. ============================= Halong Bay was nice. ============================ On our last day we went to a fancy restaraunt that had been recently visited by Bernedette Chirac! This amazing fact added almost nothing to the experience, but i felt sufienctly cool enough to buy some pretentious sounding French dish, which turned out to be raw beef ('you do realise that's very raw beef?' 'ha, of course!'; I only got it because it was the only thing on the set menu with fries). I ordered what I thought was a glass of red Chilean wine for 29,000 VND (or $2, or one pound), but in fact I'd bought the bottle for 29 US dollars. At least a day's budget gone. We decided we had to make the most of it, whcih was a struggle for Jenny. However, she did really well until she dropped a half glass on the floor, all over the silk tablecloth, and onto my trousers. Now, what came next really is interesting for any of you interested in avant-garde tourism practices. We have invented a new doctrine called 'drunk speed sight-seeing', which is carried out in the manner of a drunk person leaving a chippy about to urinate in the street, combined with a tractor going through someone's garden in the middle of the night. We saw many amazing faces, and a lot of astounded faces. Best day yet. Those temple things really came to life. There was a stuffed turtle in one, which we found really fascinating. It was about 40 metres long or something. Anyway, we saw a bit of the real Hanoi that most tourists miss out on when they're being robbed. One of the highlights had to be the look on the face of a clerk in the local bank, as she watched Jenny fall off her swivvle chair, and me trying to hand over about $4 in Lao Kip (a currency barely accepted in Vietiene, techinically it doesn't exist, or something). The only comment Jenny could muster about our DIY walking tour of the Old Qaurter was "it's not old enough". Fair enough. We saw blacksmiths on one street, mirror makers on another, people selling masking tape for our s*** new suitcase, and at least one person enjoying a good old puff of opium. Some buzz. ============================ We're now in Jakarta, Indonesia, after having a stopover in Singaporean red light district hotel ('The Fragrance Ruby Hotel'). There was some kind of PVC layering under the sheets. Interesting. Anyway, better run, we have an overnight train to catch, to Yogykarta in Central Java. Thanks for listening, it was good to get that out of my system and all that, Love from Colshy x x x x