Sept
18th,
2009 - I’ve landed in ‘Nam…..again. Last time I was here rescuing
POWs from a secret jungle prison camp in Northern Viet----, no wait,
that was Chuck Norris in “Missing
in Action”. Actually, this is my first time.
I
landed in Hanoi about
four days ago. What the hell have I been doing? Honestly, not much.
Planning, mostly. Planning a two week adventure for me and my Irish
co-conspirator who will be arriving shortly. This will entail
cruising through the mountains of Northern Vietnam on a motorcycle,
floating through the surreal landscape that is Halong Bay aboard a
sleek junk (a seagoing ship with a traditional Chinese design),
hiking, biking, swimming, or whatever else on island of Cat
Ba. I’m giddy as a school boy.
But
until then I am in Hanoi. Hanoi is a unique, to put it mildly.
Frankly, it (especially the Old Quarter) would be an easy place to
dismiss and many might find it downright unpleasant. Describing Hanoi
as frenetic would be light describing the Grand Canyon as a pretty
big hole. Walking the streets of the Old Quarter is probably grounds
for invalidating your health insurance policy. These boots may be
made for walking but the sidewalks here are not. About the only thing
you cannot do on the sidewalks is walk. However, if you want to park
your motorbike, eat pho (flat rice noodle soup), sip coffee, repair a
bike, sell a pineapple, shine a shoe, get a haircut, carve a
gravestone, copy a key, or let your kid take a piss then the sidewalk
is ideal.
The
roads are a real treat. Narrow streets, a bazillion motorbikes
(sprinkled with just enough four-wheeled vehicles to make traffic
sufficiently obnoxious), and a population of folks who could not give
a shit about slowing down. F*** your brakes. A really annoying horn
and a piss-poor attitude are all that is required to avoid
collisions. I am starting to think that motorbikes are handed out at
birth or perhaps there is a buy one get one free promotion that has
been ongoing for the last ten years. Not sure but I do know there are
a poopload of them on the road. People talking and texting on their
phones while driving a motorcycle is not uncommon. I’ll never get
used to it. I even saw a tourist doing the same. I was tempted to
knock him off his bike. Maybe I need anger management.
As far
as the people I’ve encountered so far the reviews are a bit mixed.
Tourists are a permanent fixture here and many of the local denizens
tend to regard them like they would a stray dog. I had a shoe repair
hawker try to deceive me and then give me a vibrant ‘F you!’ when
I refused to be taken in (Side note: I found him the next day and
made nice. Now we’re real close). A woman selling fruit accused me
of being in the mafia. Some of the hotel/guesthouse personnel can be
rather aggressive when it comes to booking tours through them. There
is a guy with a motorbike or cyclo (bicycle taxi) on every corner
(literally) dying to take you somewhere. I actually had one of them
following on his bike through the Old Quarter for a good kilometer or
two offering to show me around and offering a book with comments in
English from former satisfied clients to prove his worth.
Some
might consider this a turn off but so far I actually find it amusing
(notwithstanding the disgruntled shoe dude). I do not know why but I
am actually enjoying Hanoi. Normally, I would find all of this
distasteful but for some reason it intrigues me. It is not all bad. I
did meet a ethnic Chinese Vietnam born man while sipping extremely
strong Vietnamese coffee on the street. Born and raised on the very
street on which we sat he left Vietnam in 1979 when tensions flared
between China and Vietnam. First Hong Kong and then the US in 1981.
He’s lived there ever since (first Houston and then to Oakland) .
Over the past few years he has been revisiting both Vietnam and
China, the country of his parents. He’s known the owner of the
coffee stand since he was a boy. Being 70 years of age himself he has
seen his share of conflict from the rooftop of his Hanoi tenement. He
recalled watching US warplanes bomb Hanoi during the Vietnam
Conflict. Amazing shit.
Walk
the streets of Old Quarter and pay attention to people
doing….whatever the hell it is they are doing. If you really look
it can all be quite fascinating. Sit and have a glass of beer in a
tiny plastic chair designed for hobbits on the sidewalk. These little
places are called 'Bia
Hoi' and a glass of beer will set you back 18 cents. 18 cents. If
that is not grounds for alcoholism I do not know what is. I like it
here but I am not exactly sure why. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not
ready to build a summer home but there is a twisted allure about the
place. And I haven’t even started eating pigeon yet.
I was
enjoying dinner at a restaurant near my hotel when I started to read
the wine menu. It made me giggle.
Mancura
Cabernet Sauvignon
Ruby/purple-colored
with plenty of earthy, black currant, vanilla, graphite, licorice and
smoky cherry aromas as well as flavours.
Ummmm…graphite?
Don’t they put that in pencil lead? Nothing whets my appetite like
the taste of vanilla and a number #2 pencil.
Sailing
Shiraz Cabernet
Red
with purple hues cherry, currant, and sweet plums, balance with soft
tannin & clean acid, lingering of fruit and oak.
No comments:
Post a Comment
'Love me or hate me, but spare me your indifference.' -- Libbie Fudim