The hotel lady found me in the lobby this morning and sat down with a map of town and showed me all the places to go. I told her my plans and decided, given I have no idea what is going on, that I should just jump on a few tours.
I will not lie, she was polite and knowledgeable. She gave me everything I needed, but entirely unsure of the culture and after the rough start last night, I was on guard.
I know hotels favor certain travel companies, and those travel companies favor going to certain places. I had a lot of places to see on my list, but after seeing the map of how far some of the places were from where I was, a tour was the best choice, even if I miss something I want to see.
Having said that, I am deep in culture shock and what I do know of the country was learned from the internet. Most of that knowledge is terrifying to be honest. Everyone is polite and generous apparently, yet at the same time they are all, from drivers to pick pockets, out there to swindle you out of your money.
Caution is good, but that level of angst coming into a new situation like this is counterproductive to openness.
Was she charging too much? She knew I was a captive audience. She was very motivated to arrange for all my needs, not simply a city tour. She appeared genuinely disappointed I had already arranged a hotel in Ninh Binh because she would arrange one for me and on and on. I was admittedly annoyed.
But I also needed help and realized in that moment I should accept it. I am not good at accepting help from others. I think because for so many years the help was dictated by what others perceived I needed, not what I really needed, and that is frankly, annoying.
So I slapped down my superior self and realized, without question, I was in over my head.
I am better off with this woman, than some random person on the street. I would trust a concierge at a hotel in the States after all. This is no different.
It was a relief, honestly. Paid for everything up front. Arranged a tour of the Huong villages this afternoon; a day tour of Hanoi; and she also arranged a day tour of Ninh Binh, where they would leave me at the next hotel instead of having me return with the tour. She also arranged for a car to pick me up and bring me back to Hanoi, store my luggage for the few hours before I needed to be back at the airport, then a ride to that airport.
So, that’s done. Time for coffee.
With recommendations on places to go for coffee, which matched my friend’s recommendations, I dared step out of the hotel and start to explore.
I downloaded maps when I was on the hotel Wi-Fi, just to be safe. I spent a while the night before chatting with the Verizon rep about how to fix my issues, and she was very helpful. Hope that is all worked out, but now I know to have a backup.
Lesson 1: Backup. Always have an exit strategy or alternative to your technology. Well duh. I am over 50 and lived with paper maps and landlines. I should know better. I also know packing lightly demands I not have backup. It is a paradox.
Hanoi is it is a town of about 10 million people, with a population of 4 million scooters. I am not positive of the exact numbers, as I have heard everything from 8 million people and 6 million scooters, but the point is valid. There are a lot of scooters.
Roads and sidewalks and crosswalks and even a few traffic lights exist… and nobody uses them. I should clarify they are rarely used for the intended purpose.
Sidewalks can be walked upon, but usually they are blocked by shops opening and expanding from the building to the street. Anything from raw meat sellers to outdoor cafes are blocking pedestrian progress. If there is a spare inch on a sidewalk, it has a scooter, or a car parked on it.
The pedestrians take to the streets to get around, dodging another layer of parked items, or perhaps garbage (which they drop on the street by the curb because dumpsters get stolen) or even aa tour bus picking up people sends pedestrians further and further into the road.
And nobody appears to comprehend there might be danger inherent with having pedestrians, scooters, cars and tour busses vying for the same 12 foot wide path.
Yet somehow it works.
The street (I cannot in good conscious call it a street. It is at best a motivated downtown NYC alley) outside our hotel was mild enough. I arrived in Vietnam the evening of the Lunar New Year. Missed the fireworks by a few hours and the parties ended before I arrived, but what I did not know is that Tet (Vietnam Lunar new year) is not just a night as in the states. It is an 8 day everything closed holiday.
Hanoi is not bad when it is closed.
Venturing further from the safety of the alley, things got busy quickly. The best advice on being a pedestrian in Hanoi, across several internet people who claim to be experts, teach the only way to cross a street is:
maintain a confident attitude.
Check the traffic. If there is nothing directly in front of you, then go.
Step out and walk at a constant pace across the street.
Do not waver from your confident, constant gate. That is when things get messy. The traffic will move around you.
The internet is a crazy place. But in this case, they were not wrong. Not entirely right, but their wrongness was minimal.
It is an odd feeling somewhere between ‘I am about to die’ and ‘yeah, go ahead and try it. I’m walking here.’ Felt a little like the college students crossing any street in Iowa where those little signs give them permission to be on their phones and ignore traffic. It appears, from a driving perspective, those signs provide students immunity from physics. I don’t care if you have the right-of-way, check the street before you step out, because if the car does not see you, 2 tons of metal and plastic combined with speed are going to ruin your day no matter what a sign says. Stepping off my high horse now.
I know the suspense is killing you. I made it across. Anticlimactic. I will work on my style. Also navigated around several other streets before I finally located the coffee shop. Which was closed.
Apparently Vietnam being closed is an ongoing theme on my trip.
The one next door was open and crowded, so knowing nothing about how these street cafes worked, I stood there. In the street because the café took over the entire sidewalk. Because that was well within my comfort zone.
I must have looked perplexed, so someone offered me a chair, and that is when I learned Vietnam is not build for people with hip issues.
I suppose because they are used to sitting on the ground, or stoops, or curbs, or I really have no idea, but if you expect to sit in a chair when you are offered one, be aware they are child height, not adult height.
I am positive you are having visions of me falling out of the chair; or crushing it under my butt’s massive… I will call it enthusiasm. I am sorry to disappoint. I sat. I was simply surprised when my knees hit my boobs instead of stopping at my lap.
Not sure I would ever get up again, I decided to try this ‘egg coffee’ everyone raves about. I had no idea what to order, nor what to expect, so I asked for egg coffee and he pointed to the entire menu. I pointed. He nodded and left. I suppose I had ordered.
My motivated foot stool was located on the curb, so I spent my time watching the traffic. Again, not busy for a normal day, but the variety was intriguing. This was a mid size street. Perhaps a narrow neighborhood street in America.
A couple of cars which looked large compared to the constant scooters made it through without issue, and then to my surprise, a small tour bus made its way down the street. The kind you might get at a hotel that holds maybe 20 people. That bus caused a slight hiccup in the scooter traffic, leading to a round of honking, but it passed without incident.
Few more cars, about 50 scooters, and then to my surprise, a full size tour bus started down the street. I was shocked it fit on the street and prepared to move because I was sure it did not fit on the street. Sadly my knees were stuck in my boobs so I sat and watched the event unfold.
Scooters moved around the bus somehow not hitting anyone or more specifically me, in the process. Perhaps it was an alternate dimension visible to the human eye but shifted so it appeared this bus with 3 scooters abreast at its side fit on the road. They flitted around this behemoth of transport as flies might bother a cow. The bus kept going, the scooters did not perish.
I have decided, at this point, scooters are terrifying. I will add video to the site soon to show you. I cannot describe it other than terrifying.
My coffee was delivered, breaking my concern for the flies on wheels as the bus rounded the corner. No idea how, but it turned the corner.
Egg coffee presented itself in a nice cup, seated in a bowl of water with a spoon. Had no idea what to do with that, so took the spoon and stirred the coffee.
Mind you, I did not look around to observe how others were enjoying this national treasure as I did not want to appear ignorant and foreign. I need to get over that attitude because it is entirely obvious I am ignorant and foreign.
From my approximation, I would say there was a sip of quadruple espresso with meringue on top. It was not cream, it was not froth, it was thick and goopy and almost knife worthy.
I do not enjoy egg coffee. I reserved that opinion for my second taste, and yes even a third. I did not throw a toddler by looking at it and refusing to reevaluate my opinion. However, I can honestly say I would have preferred the water in the bowl. But I can say I tried it, or at least this establishments version of whatever I ordered.
So, I paid; unlocked my knees and managed to make it to my feet; then quickly in a casual way, beelined for places other.
I was told later by my friend, it is supposed to be sweet. Mine was not. I might try that again if I go with someone who knows the menu. But probably not.
