Hoi An

Not far from the booming modern city of Da Nang is the city of Hoi An.  Hoi An is one of the oldest cities in Vietnam and not far from Hue.  Hue was the ancient capitol of the Kingdom and the site of one of the bloodiest battles in the "American War".   Today Hoi An has managed to keep a good bit of it's old architecture  in the old section of the town.  Despite being overrun with tourists it's still a charming little place.  It's also a woman's clothes paradise.  I'm not sure why this place has so many tailors and clothing shops but you would never have to go to the mall again if you were here.  It's all on the street.  So far my favorite part of Hoi An....other than the tiny pool at the hotel is Leng Sao.   A small restaurant that overlooks the ferry stop on the river.  After sitting there and pondering world shaking questions with my young friends Lauren and Richard from the UK, I turn my thoughts to why all of those people are getting on the ferries when they have motorbikes and there are two bridges within sight.  No I'm not going to launch into another story of intrigue ...but what about a courier crossing on the ferry...OK. sorry.  I'm sure there is a reason but no one seems to be willing to tell a westie.   Maybe I will get a bottle of snake wine and the path will become more clear.  This is actually the most awful thing that I have seem.  These idiots are destroying the populations of endangered reptiles purely for tourist shock value.  No ancient rituals going on  here just dumb people buying them to do a Facebook shocker selfie.    The mechanical black cloud continues on this journey with not only a computer down but my favorite lens has not bit the dust.   The list of electronic, mechanical,  cyber type gremlins biting my ankles is a long one but I will continue to endeavor to persevere.   Hoi An is worth a stop and make sure you get the street Loa Cacu.  A fried shredded pork dish with mint, noodle, and a chili jam.

The Barber of Du Duy Tu

The back streets in Vietnam seem to be filled with great opening lines from some international spy novel.  "glancing both ways quickly, Mr. Yen put the box in his pocket and slid the razor sharp throwing knife back into his sleeve".  You know, something like that.  Sitting on Du Duy Tu street across from the street barber, I composed a few of those sinister lines.  I'm going to call the barber Mr. Lee Sao.   There is something strange about this barber.  The first time I saw him I was trying to get a shave.  He had a street salon set up outside of the Noch Cay restaurant complete with fashion posters.  I inquired about the shave to the young hostess who quickly rushed in to the seated Mr. Sao and relayed my request.  He was sitting at what anyone would recognize as a prominent table having a coffee and a smoke.  When asked about the shave he slowly shook his head without ever making eye contact with the hostess.  She returned to me and in a humble tone said, "now not good time".  Really, Mr Sao appeared to be lounging without much regard to marketing his trade or making any dong for that matter.   As it turned out one of my favorite street food stales was across the street from Noch Cay and the barber.  Over the course of a few days I saw Mr. Sao give exactly one haircut.  I saw him turn away at least a dozen.  And I thought it was just me.  Here is the one haircut taken in a very spy like fashion under my left arm.
  He looks like a man you really don't want to let put a razor to your throat.  Maybe the gods have smiled on me again.  I have a feeling that he could be Madame Woo's son who moved to Hanoi to open a branch of the family business.  See previous posting for Madame Woo's biography.   No matter what, he isn't going to wear out his knees standing at the barber chair.

Table for One

I have had a few meals at the Little Black Duck on Hang Gach street while in the old part of Hanoi.  The food was good and Hoang, the owner, speaks wonderful english.  Last night I was craving a bit of Europe and splurged for a bottle of Chardonnay and some pasta.  Sitting in my usual crowed outside table.  (there is only one) and sweating the evening away was my plan.  Little did I know that there was a roof top terrace that was normally not open to the public.  I got the invite and low and behold..."a table for one".  The roof was amazing.  It gives such a spectacular  perspective of Hanoi.  You spend all day with millions of people jammed into the narrow streets going about their day not realizing that LIFE is above the streets not on them.  Sitting there with
 Chile' finest dry Chardonnay and just being a voyeur .  Watching people doing their laundry, watching TV, learning to ride a bike on the roof.  It was fantastic.  There was even a slight breeze.   I even see the corner apartment on the busy intersection that has bounced in and out of my dreams for years.  A little different but the same.  big fan..white sheets, and a balcony just above the bustle of the street...  The Little Black Duck.  5th Floor, Table for one.  I would recommend making it a table for two.  That would be hard to beat.  

Hanoi with Love

Imagine the scene if you can.  About 30 wacky 14 and 15 years olds running in a huge group yelling in English and holding signs that say "Free Hugs".  There are not a lot of English speakers at all in Hanoi.  Even fewer can read English, so people young and old didn't exactly get the program on this one.  Young children screamed and ran to their parents, old people pushed and shoved the "huggists" out of the way.  Especially confusing was sign holder number three in the photo.  It was more than likely a well intended English class field trip that went South on them.  It looks like from the uniforms it was one of those snobby private schools where the rich kids go.  By the end of the sidewalk, lets say about 200 yards, the love fest was called off.  Just too much fear involved too early in the morning. That's ok because they all stopped at the ice cream stand a few yards away to lick their wounds and the signs went in a big bag. Not a bad shot at community love really, they just need some fine tuning I think.

Ms. Linh and the Secret Sauce

Meet Linh, the owner of my most frequented food establishment in Hanoi.  Ms. Linh takes her work and product very seriously which may be hard to imagine from that bright and beautiful face.  Her stand is a street over from my hotel and for some reason every time I walk by she reaches into my pocket and takes some of my money.  I really don’t mind and it’s not much money.  25 cents a stick for the chicken satay with the secret super hot chili sauce of course.  Every once in awhile I will try to sit and eat my sticks on the tiny plastic chairs that are so small they stick to my butt when I get up.  Hum, they seem small anyway.  Linh goes to school and comes out after 2 with her grill and cooler.  At 13 she is already a saleswoman of impressive prowess.   It’s funny to see adults try to haggle with her about her prices and the fact that she has no plates.  I mean this is a mobile operation and needs to stay low overhead.  I’m sure there is another trip to Ms. Linh before I head out of Hanoi.  

Night Train to Hanoi

What is it about trains that still holds some magic.  I mean I remember when it was fun to fly.  Everyone was all dressed up and people treated you like Kings and Queens.  OMG the days of free cocktails?  Did that really happen? Now it’s worse than the old greyhound station.  How about those 5 dollar peanuts or paying more for a beer than you would at a baseball game?   Well, I still hold a soft spot in my heart for train travel.  Sure, the cabins are small and usually crowded.  At least on the ones I can afford to travel on and the berths are narrow and about an inch to short for this guy.   Well and of course there is the guarantee that if there is an upper berth it’s going to be mine.  Getting in and out of that thing for the midnight toilet break is not even remotely easy.  That said, I still love trains.  The rocking and bouncing is somehow soothing compared to the usual terror that those motions have with air travel.  I mean unless you are in India....how many people really go to meet the great conductor in the sky when traveling by train?  Don’t look it up....you won’t like the answer.  It’s worth the risk to listen to the sullen and bored “milk coffee” lady knock on your cabin door at 6 am.  Again, that top berth thing can be challenging but somehow it all works out.   So, I would encourage you to give the train a try if you haven’t in awhile especially if you are 5 feet 11 and a half or shorter...

Please don't feed the H'mong

I guess mountain people need mountains even when they are in the city.  It must make them feel at home.  To me it has this strange Zoo scene look that is very disturbing.  Just behind where this photo was taken is a sign to that says, “Rules for Visitors”.  Number 2 on the list is do not buy things from the local village people.  It says to only buy from the approved cultural shops.  I have no idea what an approved cultural shop is but if it’s like what I imagine it steals the crafts at less than pennies on the dollar, creates a huge mark up, and then collects tax on the sale.  Where would some indigenous tribal sort sign up for a deal like that?  Number 3 on the sign said absolutely do not buy anything from children.  We are talking more absolutely than Number 2.   It states that if you buy from children then they will stay on the street and not go to school.  There is a solid truth to that but from what I have come to find out that public education in this part of Vietnam is seriously lacking.  You see the government stopped running the free rural bus service for children.  Hum.  Village partners are not supposed to sell their wares on the street, children can’t sell, buses to school cost money?  Hum, again.   Now you may be able to see the Zoo feeling with H’mong people on the rock in the middle of town and a sign that essentially says please don’t feed the locals.  You have to marvel at what our world does to these amazing indigenous cultures.  Especially considering most of the people in Sapa have come to see them yet they are the ones marginalized.  Just my thoughts.