Money to Burn

STATS: Day count=233; theft count=0; rip-off count=1; tourist screw-up count=5.5; Chris’ photo count=2054; Emma’s photo count=99; touch-typing char/min=240; Poi skills mastered since last post: None

Hanoi is said by many we have met to be very different from Saigon (Ho Chi Minh City). I didn’t think it was all that different, Emma did. Either way, it was busy, hectic, packed with shops and parks and, in general, we liked it. Shops, especially around the Old Quarter where we were staying, seemed to be grouped based on what they sold – there was a ‘toy street’, a ‘shoe street’, ‘sewing street’ etc. We learned to navigate around the city not by street name, but by what the nearby shops had for sale.

The fashion for the women here seems to be to wear pyjamas all day. I’m not sure it will catch on in London. The men wear olive green pith helmets, often sporting the Vietnamese star, whilst the women wear the infamous conical hats on sale in every tourist shop. Given that these forms of headwear are worn out in the villages as well as in the main tourist areas, it seems not to just be a gimmick for the tourists.

Another interesting practice we saw all around the city was the burning of paper money (purchased especially for the purpose) outside of the shops in the day or evening. I’ve read that it is an offering to the spirits of ancestors that is made to improve the prosperity of the shop. I do wonder why they don’t just burn the real money that they use to buy the paper money in the first place, but then maybe only toy money is useful in the spirit world. As much of the real money here is made of plastic (for longevity reasons, and as there are no coins here, the notes get used a lot), at least burning the fake stuff is better for the environment.

In a country filled with waterlogged paddy fields, and with heavy rains for half of the year, a form of theatre developed which uses wooden puppets acted out on, and in, water. Originally this art-form was practised in the paddy fields to entertain the villagers, now it has all but died out. However a theatre in Hanoi puts on a few shows every day and it was really very good, especially for the price of a £1.30 ticket. 15 minutes of traditional music, followed by 45 minutes of puppetry. The seats were designed for Asian height people, strange as the place was full of Westerners trying to squeeze their knees into the tiny gap behind the seat in front. Unfortunately my photography skills fall far short of taking any decent pictures in a theatre, so you’ll just have to take my word for it that it was a good way to spend an hour.

We have seen 2 dead bodies so far on this trip. The first was pretty gruesome, in India, as we drove past a road traffic accident to catch sight of the victim lying in the road. I’m no doctor, but believe me he was no longer in this realm. The second was in Hanoi when we paid a visit to Ho Chi Minh’s mausoleum. A sombre but impressive building and an incredibly efficient system for allowing people to visit. My camera that I had to leave at the entrance was safely delivered to the exit, 500 yards away, before I even had time to get there. The guards were politely imposing the rules of no talking, no running, no disrespect (we left Mr Bear outside for fear of breaking this rule), as people filed past the suspiciously well-preserved body of ‘Uncle Ho’ himself – apparently he gets sent away to be cleaned up for 4 months each year – either they do a very good job, or they have switched it for a waxwork model. For a country that has such respect for their glorious leader that lead them to independence from the French in the 50’s and into the war with the Americans in the 60’s it is strange that they didn’t comply with his wish to be cremated at his place of birth upon his death.

Most people visit the famous Halong Bay (self-proclaimed ‘8^th Wonder of the World’, along with about 20 other natural wonders claiming the same title) via a tour organised in Hanoi. From what we have read and heard, many are disappointed, not with the place itself, which is very impressive, but with the tour companies, many of which use every means available to separate you from your money for as little effort on their part as possible. Being aware of this, we made our own way to Cat Ba island, which is next to Halong Bay. This turned out to be an excellent decision, as we paid a relatively small amount of money to do the equivalent of a day trip into Halong Bay, as we were actually transported to the island on the same boat as those taking a tour, and got the ‘touring round the bay on a Junk’ experience for the price of a ferry ticket to the island. The bay was beautiful - calm waters at the edge of the South China Sea with countless imposing, limestone ‘khasts’ (little islands') that you cruise around. Unfortunately the day we went was overcast and raining much of the time, but this gave the whole place a gloomy, creepy feel – watching the islands loom out of the mist. Very enjoyable. And more impressive than my photos give it credit for – I’m not very good at photography in overcast conditions either, it seems!

Cat Ba island is covered with forest and is only about 40km across. There is one road around the island, which made it very difficult to get lost (we did try!) when we hired a motorbike to travel round. We did get absolutely drenched though and spent the evening drying out our money – another plus for the plastic money! The main town on the island, on the main fishing harbour, is small and attractive, but becoming less so as the main source of revenue switches from fishing to tourism. In 5 years time it will be overrun with large hotels and resorts, but for now there are small guesthouses and restaurants, and it was a peaceful and pleasant place to spend a few days before returning to the not-so-peaceful Hanoi. The fact that the weather remained overcast did not detract from our enjoyment, and probably kept people away meaning that the small beaches that we walked to were deserted. Of course, on the morning of our departure from the island, we woke up to glorious, sunny skies.

After returning to Hanoi for one night, staying in a spotless but uncomfortable dorm room for a change – surprisingly the first on this trip – we headed on to Sapa. Taking the overnight train to Sapa is the most common way of getting to this pretty, mountain town in the North of Vietnam. So we took the bus instead – partly our stubbornness to be different, and partly because the tour companies book up most of the train seats far in advance, leaving very few for non-tour travellers. This turned out to be another good choice as the bus was cheaper, comfortable (it’s a 10 hour journey) and arrived on time and with no problems.

The town of Sapa developed from a former French hill station and is now a hub of trekking activity into the surrounding hills and to local hill-tribe villages. Other than the constant, but friendly, hassles from the many colourfully garbed women and children from the various local tribes trying to sell you their wares in the main town, it was a really good place to stay. Probably the coolest (temperature, not hippy-speak) place we have stayed on this trip – for the first time we didn’t need a fan in our room – and fantastic mountain views from our room window.

One low point when we came upon a bag of discarded rubbish by the side of the road, which turned out to contain a number of very young kittens – they couldn’t have been more than a couple of days old, still alive, barely. They didn’t have much of a chance of survival – at least the person who dumped them there left the bag open to give them a very tiny chance – but there was very little we could do – we asked around and no one seemed interested. We regretfully let nature take its course, though I suspect none survived. Passing the same spot a day later and the bag had gone – I hope due to someone with more resources, or compassion, than we had and not, as I suspect, due to the street cleaners clearing up the rubbish.

As per our experience elsewhere in Vietnam, there are lots of little puppies around, in all shapes and sizes. This was all very cute, but after seeing a headless dog, skinned and prepared for cooking for sale at the local market it became more obvious why there are fewer older dogs around.

We spent a few days in Sapa which reminded us of an alpine resort in summer – great views, sunny weather and pretty houses with steep roofs. We wandered to a nearby hill tribe village near to a waterfall – lots of stalls for the tourists but great scenery and not too many people. As with Cat Ba island, Sapa is turning into a primary tourist destination, with all the benefits to the locals, and problems to the environment and the peace of the region that this brings. It has always been, and is increasingly so, a big weekend destination for the urban Vietnamese, and this became even more obvious as we had arrived the day before a national holiday. This scuppered our forward planning slightly as the banks were closed for 4 days and we needed to change money to dollars before moving into Laos – slight tourist screw-up count statistic increase for this reason, but there are far worse places to be stuck than Sapa!

For treks further afield than the nearest hill-tribe village they recommend that you take a guide to avoid getting lost. We didn’t take a guide and we got lost. Luckily not very lost, and we eventually found our way back, no thanks to a map that didn’t show existing paths, but was very good at showing non-existent ones, and rain that made the downhill stretches dangerously slippery.

Our progression to the Vietnam-Laos border consisted of an early morning start on Sunday to the last town before the border – Dien Bien Phu, where we are staying the night prior to crossing the border tomorrow. Dien Bien Phu is a small town, but significant to the Vietnamese as it is the site of the final battle in 1953 against the French before Independence. The French thought they would be able to end the Indochina war by winning this battle. They were right about the war ending with this battle, wrong about the winner.

The road from Sapa to Dien Bien Phu is not well-travelled. Imagine a gorgeous, twisty alpine road. Now remove all of those useful and reassuring safety barriers. Add a fair few rockfalls covering one side of the road, and remove a substantial part of the other side of the road due to it collapsing down the mountain. Now lift up at least half of any road surface that remains to leave the mud, gravel and large rocks beneath. Throw in a rickety old minibus and a driver with a deathwish and you have a picture of the first couple of hours of our journey. The distance from Sapa to Dien Bien Phu as the crow flies is about 150km. The journey took 10 hours. Some parts of the journey were only just passable, with much slipping and sliding in the mud, and another week of rains would probably close the road. The journey was in fact really interesting and the driver was actually really good. Despite the relatively high cost of the trip ($10 each – high for Asia) we thought it was well worth it – the concentration required for the trip and the inevitable toll that the route takes on the vehicle makes the price understandable. Not to everyone’s taste (a few travellers have commented in blogs that it is their worst journey ever!) but if you aren’t in a hurry, or of a nervous disposition, great fun.