Since we'll be coming back to the Asian Ruby hotel in Ho Chi Minh in a couple days, we left a bag there and headed to the airport to catch a JetStar flight to Hanoi, Vietnam. Before getting in the cab, we settled on the price to the airport: 150,000 VND. We drove less than a km and we were then told to switch taxis. Our driver gave another driver 50,000 VND to take us. At this point, we realized that we might have over bid. It even seemed like a legit taxi company with a good meter. We read about some taxis with meters that move much faster than normal.
The domestic terminal is nothing compared to the
international one. It was older and not as clean. Our Jetstar flight (owned by Quantas) was similar. It was so old school, it still had ash trays on the arm rest. Not only that, but there seemed to be numerous kinds of bad odor coming from who knows what. We particularly enjoyed the guy sitting behind us who kept snorting phlegm up his nose. We quickly put on our masks to block out the body odor and also as a precaution from some people coughing. We weren't the only ones who took this precaution. Unfortunately, Theresa claims the masks did not block out the odors. I told her it was just her own breath. In Hanoi, we are staying at the Anise Hotel, which is just a 15 minute walk to the main attractions and north of Hoan Kiem Lake, a huge lake in the middle of old quarter. It was clean, nice and very Ikea furniture-like.
Being hungry after our flights have been a common trend. So we opted for an early dinner. Getting to the restaurant was a feat. If we thought Ho Chi Minh was congested and full of motorbikes, Hanoi was worse. The streets are flooded with motorbikes and taxis. While the sidewalks are wide, they are completely filled with parked motorbikes or street side vendors, so you have no choice but to walk on the
street and learn to bob and weave with the best of them.After much frogger-action, we finally arrived at our destination, Five Restaurant, which was more European food with a touch of Vietnamese, depending on the dish. Theresa had a vegetable pot pie with a very nice flaky crust and gruyere cheese, definitely prepared with a french influence. I had a pizza with minced lamb, feta cheese and pine nuts. Exactly what I wanted.
Afterwards, we wanted to go catch the Thang Long Water Puppet show, a traditional Vietnamese form of entertainment. When we got there (again with much intense concentration on trying not to get hit by a bike or car), the sign said it was sold out for the night. We were going to buy tickets for the next day. At the counter, Theresa optimistically asked if there were any left for the 6:30 show. The lady told us to wait 15 minutes. We were in luck! Turns out people did not show up to claim their tickets. So we bought two "first class" tickets for 120,000 VND (roughly 6.50 USD). We had prime seats, front row, right smack in the middle of the 200+ person theatre. The hour long show consisted of about 17 stories, all in Vietnamese with live music, singing and narration, but still very interesting. One was the legend of the king tossing his sword into Ha Long Bay as a gift to the magic turtle after successfully preventing an invasion by Ming imperial troops from China. Other stories included fishermen trying to catch fish, a college student returning home to pay respects to his ancestors, and a dance of the four magical creatures (dragon, unicorn, phoenix, turtle).
After the show, we decided to explore the city center north of the Hoan Kiem Lake. The streets in this area (Old Quarter) are each characterized by what they sell. One is a shoe street, another a bag street, a hair accessories street, a kid's toys street, etc. Definitely a lot to buy, probably because so many foreign companies manufacture products in Hanoi. Before heading back to the hotel, we had dessert at the City View Cafe, which overlooked Hoan Kiem Lake and the bustling traffic.
On the way back to the hotel, we saw some ladies selling french bread on the street. Since Vietnam was a French colony for 100 years, we were hoping to hit a bakery while we were out here and check out the french-influence in the baked goods. For a millisecond we considered buying bread from one of the ladies, until Theresa noticed that the lady was squatting down rubbing her feet with her hands. Um, no thanks, I think we'll pass on the bread. As a side note, this appears to be a common posture for locals.
For pictures of the day, go to: http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/sredir?uname=theresang1977&target=ALBUM&id=5399219553605193841&authkey=Gv1sRgCPHgm7jH44KlOw&feat=email
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