Hanoi seems to be in the middle of replacing the entirety of its considerable airborne wiring. Every few streets we saw a bevy of repairmen balancing precariously on the black masses of wiring in between poles.

We got a rather later start than we’d intended to, but we were out on the streets by 8 a.m., after a mediocre breakfast downstairs. At first we tried to follow the purple path suggested by the tourist map, but other streets were too tempting. We found one of the old city gates, and some interesting markets once we left the tourist district. Chenbl spent a good 15 minutes chasing chickens in an alley while I photographed scooters piled high with plastic bottles edging through the narrow entrance. Walking north, we passed underneath the railway and, quite thirsty, looked for something to drink. When we approached a coconut stand as we’d done last night quite easily, the woman selling the coconuts demanded that we pay first. This was a bad sign, and we should have left then and there, but we were thirsty. Of course once she had our money, she pulled out her very worst coconut, the one she’d been saving for fools just as us, with a moldy black exterior and exactly one metric mouthful of juice. We should have made a bigger fuss than we did, but again, we were thirsty, and we had no idea that a Lotteria was just around the corner. Heated up with anger rather than cooled down by the coconut juice, we sat and drank lemon juice to cool off.

We spotted another lake nearby, Truc Bach lake, so we walked over to check it out. It turned out to be uninteresting, but the trip did serve one purpose: Chenbl finally found a way to cut his fingernails: He approached a trio of Vietnamese fellows on the bank of the lake and asked if he could borrow their nail clippers. They said ok, Chenbl’s nails were clipped, and we were on our merry way around the small promontory, separated from land by a truly awful canal.

We were wandering around without purpose, and this suited me fine. We passed by the luxurious Army Hotel, with bored Army guards outside, and walked down broad streets to a long park where I nearly fell on my face when I tripped on a fractured curb. I fell on Chenbl instead, who had the presence of mind not to fall over himself.

We walked around a round building in the middle of a roundabout that turned out to be Old, and then over to where the train tracks crossed over the street, following the tracks until we were hungry enough for lunch of beef pho sitting on the street. I haven’t had any pho here so far that hasn’t been  delicious.

We walked south, out of the tourist district completely this time, and our exodus engendered a sense of relief. People seemed like regular people, touts weren’t constantly approaching me, there were actual sidewalks and street crossings, and prices were half of what they were in the old district. It was like returning to civilization. We even saw a traffic accident where the drivers got out, glared at each other, got back into their cars and drove off, both completely ignoring the traffic cop at the intersection, who ignored them right back.

Further south, we came upon another lake, this one looking man-made, probably to cool off the neighborhood. After sitting and resting while a small boy slid down the stairs over and over again, we decided to walk west. Inside a nearby alley, an old barber was striking camp in the light of the sunset as a boy threatened me with a tree branch. Both lived just down the alley, near a small temple on the lake.

We walked to the railway tracks, where we were surprised to see far more people camped out on the tracks than we’d expected. I guess it must be cooler, and they all seem to know the train schedule, but it was still a bit unnerving considering how easily trains can slip up on one. We talked with one young bespectacled fellow who enquired about our cameras. I got his flickr handle so I can look at his work.

Continuing through long alleys punctuated with LED signs and little old shops, my spirits lifted even more. This was actual Vietnam, actual Hanoi. People were friendly and open, traffic moved smoothly. We had some delicious dry beef noodles at some random shop patronized by heavy, shirtless men and one very old woman. In the corner by the TV was a large glass bottle of something straight out of Severus Snape’s pantry.

We continued up the alley, which turned out to be very, very long, but it was interesting and the most fun we’ve had in Hanoi so far. We made attempts to chat with various people along the way, some older men smoking water cigars, some women cutting hair, some construction workers eating dinner, etc. We passed empty lots where the houses had been torn down, and eventually ended up on a major road, where we asked directions back to the old district. Everyone we asked said it was too far to walk, but when we pointed out that we had just walked from there, they just shrugged. Crazy foreigners, I guess. What can you do?

As we made our way back towards the hotel, showers of leaves would occasionally float down from the trees. We had some fresh juice at an intersection, but some air conditioning was in order, so we stopped in at a KFC. Chenbl noted that the chicken there was much thinner than it is in Taiwan. The women in front of us were apparently applying for several foreign visas along with their meal, as they had filled out several forms and provided bank statements with phone confirmations. Then every school in the vicinity let out, and the place was suddenly filled with screaming children. This prompted our escape.

Now we’re back at the hotel, where the broken fridge has been fixed. In order to compensate for this commendable act, neither the TV nor Internet is working, most likely due to the cutting of a few wrong wires today.

The other ships in the harbor where we docked were still lit up when I got up this morning at around 5 a.m. They’d doused their lights by the time I got up on the sundeck to watch the sunrise. One other passenger was there taking shots with his phone. The sunrise was much nicer this morning than yesterday, with an actual sun-shaped sun rising up into the sky rather than just a general lightening of clouds. I stayed on top of the ship as the engines turned on noiselessly and we began to move through the water towards the same place we’d moved the day before. Several other ships followed, and we dropped anchor in the same place, with the same hawkers, and the same bad tai-chi. Today, however, we were taken over to a very large, impressive system of caves called Hang Sung Sot. It felt like something out of the Lord of the Rings, except sprinkled with signs saying STOP and THIS WAY and NO SMOKING and CUT THAT OUT. Bats hung from the roof, swaying, chirping and shitting on the floor. The group moved faster than I could take photos, so I only got a few shots. We were the first group in and damn if we weren’t going to be the first group out! Such is tourism.

Then it was back to the ship, a nice big breakfast. By the time I’d showered and packed, the ship was part of an armada of Paradise ships heading back to port. After we docked we were taken to yet another lounge, where we were fed and sung to before embarking on the grueling 3-hour drive back to Hanoi. I say grueling but it was merely a little uncomfortable due to 45-degree heat that the crowded van’s a/c just wasn’t up to dealing with. I felt far more sorry for the people laying boiling asphalt in that weather, covered head-to-toe in clothes for protection.

Back in Hanoi, we were the last of our group to be dropped off at our hotel, the Golden Sun Moment. This was possibly in order to spare us any embarrassment, as everyone else seemed to be staying at really nice joints. Thoughtful, that.

We managed to get a room somewhat unlike the one we booked, which has been a constant theme in Vietnam, and then we headed out to walk around. We went down to the lake and around to the old cathedral as the late afternoon sun lit up the streets. A man in black with a taped-up rangefinder had staked out a nice spot to catch people walking through the light on the other side of the road, but when I approached he scattered. “Just wait until you submit your stuff to HCSP,” I didn’t call after him. “I will be condescendingly arrogant with pop-culture references! Ooh, feel the burn!”

Behind the cathedral several boys were kicking a ball at the rear windows, against a backdrop of the wise men pointing at weeds. When they saw us they kicked the ball at us, but we managed to dodge in time (Chenbl can move surprisingly quickly if he needs to). Later we had dry noodles at a place one of the Americans on the ship had recommended. It wasn’t terribly good. Rather, it was both full of Westerners and really expensive.

I’ll be honest here, so far I really dislike Hanoi. Or at least the Old District. It’s busy and wary and fearful, it feels as if no Vietnamese live here, and the ones who do aren’t happy about the fact. But perhaps I’ll get a better impression tomorrow.

Sleep at the Merci Hotel was, well, not great. I hate windowless rooms with no connection to the outside, there were mosquitos, and the a/c blew directly on my face. I didn’t even feel like sleeping in in the morning despite my fatigue. The hotel staff was continuously busy on their phones or playing games on the front desk’s computer. Breakfast was ordered from other nearby establishments, so it wasn’t too bad, but I’ve been spoiled by living in Prince Roy’s Park Palace for the last few days.

Finally out on the streets, we walked to the place where we were to be picked up by the ship company’s bus. In the back were several Western tourists, all of whom seemed to be trying up to one-up each other with the people they knew and the places they’d been. “Caitlin, tell them your Raoul story!” The bus trip was interminable, though the conversation coming from behind got better over the course of the voyage after all the showing off was done and people started discussing topics of more interest. When we arrived at the depressingly empty port area we were were ushered into a fairly standard waiting area, and then when the ship, one of several white vessels lined up at the dock, was ready, we were allowed to go aboard. Apparently Chenbl and I were the last ones on, because the massive door began to close before my foot had even crossed the threshold.

The ship itself, though, is quite nice. Old wooden trim and paneling as well as properly worn, clunky brass fittings. We set out into the sea amidst islands. Our cabin has twin beds and its own balcony. Eventually we stopped by a little island, where we were taken to the sandy beach. We kayaked around the sea a bit, looking at the eagles soaring overhead, listening to the cicadas, paddling into and out of a cave, and around a little floating house before heading back to the beach, where I swam a bit before we had to get back to the ship. Watching the pale green water and pale blue sky, separated by bits of dark green island, slipping by my window was utterly peaceful. I do love being on board a ship.

The crew had a little cooking class on the sundeck, and Chenbl got an award for cooking spring rolls. Later, at the seven-course diner, we were told to wear the provided traditional Vietnamese clothing that seemed fresh out of a TV historical drama set. The food wasn’t too bad, but it looked better than it tasted. Later we tried some fishing…well, Chenbl tried; I laid in a hammock stretched across the away boat and enjoyed the rocking motion. Many other ships were anchored around us.

We got up early to see the sunrise, but it was far from spectacular. The ship upped anchor and moved to another position near some other ships, and at 6:30 some of the passengers, mostly older and female, arrived at the sun deck for tai-chi practice. The ensuing tai-chi was, shall we say, somewhat less than authentic, but I suppose they do it that way for a reason. They can’t exactly start with the basics; people most likely just want something that makes them feel like they’re doing tai-chi, not actual tai-chi. I took photos and then, after everyone had left, did some of the forms I know. For some reason, this is the one place where they unfurl the sails, perhaps to air them out. I can’t see them actually being used for any kind of meaningful propulsion.

Local boat people were rowing back and forth between the ships, plying their wares, but to little apparent avail. I wonder who buys things from them. But they must, otherwise they wouldn’t be there. Maybe the ships’ local crews buy from them.

We got off the Paradise Luxury, and were ferried onto another, smaller boat, the Paradise Explorer, around 9. This was a day boat, with only one closed deck, and a sundeck on top. We made our way across the bay, wondering which of the gigantic tankers were legal, and found ourselves at a small fishing village. Several Vietnamese women took us in small boats around the village, but we got the smallest, slowest rower, and quickly fell behind all the other boats, even though we were the first to leave the dock. It soon became apparent that we weren’t making any actual headway, and the Australian guy behind me stepped up and took over. It didn’t go very well, as he didn’t know what he was doing, and my snarky comments probably didn’t help the situation.

When we finally arrived somehow, we found a village with a schoolroom and several huts. A naked male mannequin decorated one bedroom. Then it was another slow slog over to the pearl factory, where daintily dressed women manned an elegant floating pearl display room, all in the middle of a messy fishing village. It’s rather bizarre. As soon as we left they cut the A/C and threw open the windows. I imagine once we were out of sight they all jumped into the water for a nice swim, but I could be wrong.

We got back to the boat, which took us to another location while we ate a tasty lunch. Then we kayaked to a nearby beach, which featured one of the signature orange basins I keep hidden around the world in case of a surprise jam session. A French couple was busy manhandling their kayak, as if they’d somehow dropped something valuable inside it and couldn’t get it out. Chenbl and I foundered on the surf trying to get back out into the water, but we managed. I swam around the boat after returning the kayak, and was reminded that I need to swim more.

Then it was back to the big ship, the Luxury, and although I witnessed someone going back for forgotten stuff, it didn’t occur to me that I’d left my battery and chargers on the small boat. Oh,well. I’d wanted to go back to explore the cave above the beach, but they neglected to tell me that was an option. The crew really could use some work on their communication skills.

We got up early to catch the good light, and before it got too hot, walking down through downtown Saigon to the river where boats of all sizes and shapes were plying the broad brown waters. On the banks, a woman knelt in prayer as she released some fish that had been captured for that express purpose. I suppose one’s responsibility for such actions doesn’t quite resonate past the personal level all the time.

We walked to the bridge designed by the Eifel of Tower fame, the steps of which reeked of trash and urine. Nearby a field of young Vietnamese men practiced formation in a very languid fashion. On the other side of the bridge a TV or film production was ongoing, with the crew positioning a complex array of mirrors and filters to make the editor’s job less hellish as the sun came and went. The director and his assistant huddled on the steps not far away, looking at the monitor.

Breakfast was had on a street nearby, and we talked with the owner in Chinese as she was, as seems fairly common here, of Cantonese ancestry. Unfortunately, though the food was good, we lingered too long, and when the cops came to collect their shakedown fees, they were unable to escape fast enough and got caught in the net.

We examined an interesting mixed Hindu/Buddhist temple down the street before walking back through a market to the tallest building in the city, which features an observation deck. As it costs money to go up, it wasn’t crowded, and they offer free wifi and water in addition to free dots and substandard, wavy glass that screws with your photos. I wonder if they also light it up at night from the inside as well. Perhaps someday I’ll come back and find out.

But the daytime view was fine, and really let me get a grasp on the layout of the city. Perhaps I should have gone up there at first to get my bearings, instead of leading Prince Roy on a series of merry, exhausting chases around the city. But I didn’t, so, well, sorry about that, my liege.

From up top, I did managed to pinpoint our next destination: Across the river was a large, densely packed area of what looked like older houses, punctuated by a single orange pagoda. We got one of the staff to write the neighborhood’s name down (it turns out he takes the bus past the area every day), and we caught a cab out there.

It turns out that the pagoda is new, and built next to the smashed ruins of the old temple. Little shards of porcelain gods lay in the mud, but two were intact and placed lovingly on one of the concrete pillars. I wonder what that is all about. We were invited inside by a monk, who showed us around and took pictures of us in front of the altar.

After that we walked back into the alleys of the densely packed neighborhood behind the temple. It was fascinating and fun, and we were greeted by almost everyone. It is in District 4, one of the poorer parts of town as I understand, but the houses were mostly neat and clean, some of them quite nice. Nice little parks dotted the area.

We made our way towards the canal bank, where things got very industrial very fast. A guard waved me away from the actual waterfront, and we walked in a large U back to where we’d started. Lunch was delicious beef pho at an electronics repair shop.

After taxiing back to PR’s place and showering up, we bade his Highness farewell and caught a cab to the airport, this time making sure the driver used his meter. At the airport we barely had time for a small snack before boarding our 777 to Hanoi. The good news is that we got emergency row seats. The bad news is that the seats had no windows, so I had wedge my head into the space between the seat and the fuselage to see the wonderful cloud formations outside. Our stewardess gave me a talking to about filming in the aircraft after I shot video of her pointedly refusing to help passengers with their luggage (I’m sure she’ll enjoy the Youtube video).

The flight had left in a downpour, but the weather in Hanoi was much nicer. We had to take buses into the airport, but it wasn’t that bad. We then got on a bus into town, which is a long trip. It was just after sunset, the empty rice fields glowing under massive electric billboards and the lights from lonely motorcyclists.

Things got seedier as we approached the city, and then nicer again. It was nighttime when we forced our way through the touts and caught another cab to our hotel, the Merci. I suspect the driver understands Chinese, because after Chenbl mentioned a less-than-life-changing tip, we seemed to be travelling in circles for a long while.

We checked in and then went out for dinner, and suddenly the world was a giant frat party. The streets were full of Western kids. Hardly any Vietnamese were to be seen. We sat next to a table of young Americans who were dining on a debate of the merits of locking people up forever with no reason, with a side of chunky entitlement. The dinner was ok, as was the a/c, as the weather is evern muggier up here than in Saigon. The crowds outside were just out of hand as we forced our way back to the hotel.

Tomorrow, hopefully, we’re going to catch a ride to Halong Bay and get on a boat.

We had breakfast at a steakhouse this morning. The steak was a little on the chewy side, but the French bread was good. After that we walked over to the bus station, where middle-aged men crowded around the opening doors of newly arrived buses in an effort to get some business. We boarded a bus and headed out to the Chinatown area, where we walked through a street market and then a more substantial goods market, and then through some alleys bordered by neat old two-story houses. Many of the residents spoke at least basic Mandarin, so we chatted with some of them about their families and how they’d come to Vietnam, etc.

We also visited a series of temples, some more like those of Taiwan, some different. They tend to use the central door here rather than leaving it only for the gods’ use as they do in Taiwan. Across the street from one of the temples was an emtpy ice cream place that turned out to be surprisingly tasty.

The last temple was a multi-story affair locked inside of a tuggle of other buildings; Chenbl got dizzy inside due to all the bad energy there. Even Prince Roy and I felt it; we didn’t at all feel welcome by the practicioners, who were upstairs chanting in front of giant statues. Of course, they might have been unhappy with the chatty Western tourists that came in behind us, but I suspect they weren’t a very happy bunch in any case. It felt good to leave.

But we were tired and hot by this time, and as I was on my last battery, we elected to take a taxi back, PR chatting with the driver in Vietnamese. I felt bad about dragging PR all over town during the hottest part of the day; Chenbl and I doggedly headed out by ourselves for another loop around the area while there was still light, but I think we should have followed PR’s example and just took a break in the A/C, because my feet were aching and my head swimming by the time we got back. We did see quite a few Western tourists around town, young men with beards and lenseless glasses (and one with a conical hat) and young women with ponytails and lenseless glasses. There are far more Western tourists here than in Taipei.

Dinner was a delicious affair at a rooftop restaurant called the Secret Garden, in an old building that someone stole the elevator from at some point. Tomorrow is our last day in Saigon, but we’re going to try and get some more sightseeing in before our flight up to Hanoi.

Today was brilliant. Breakfast was some more delicious pho, beef this time, at another place Prince Roy knew of, only a few blocks from his place. The blue decor looked to be from pretty much the same era as the place we went last night, but the breakfast crowd was more active. A huge screen showing security cam footage was hung on the wall in between the heads of various animals.

Next on our itenerary was the war museum, which features a bunch of leftover U.S. military equipment such as airplanes, helicopters and tanks. Chenbl and I then walked around town a bit, stopping by a couple of temples, before walking back to Prince Roy’s palace, where we met a couple of Vietnamese women who were going to take us around town on the backs of their scooters in search of the best and most sanitary street food this town has to offer.

It was wonderful, a great way to see more of the city and sample a lot of great food. Being Taiwanese, of course we weren’t daunted by the scooter traffic, but…well, ok, the traffic here can be kind of daunting. But we soon learned to ignore it and just enjoy the ride. We stopped in five places for various meals, but it was paced well so that we didn’t get too full, and we learned a lot about all the dishes, all the way to a range of desserts. I noticed that, though the skies are full of huge bundles of electrical wires, people here leave their balconies in unfettered glory, rather than blocking them out as they do in Taiwan. It makes a huge difference in the mien of the city. I also love the huge trees lining the avenues, like something out of a Miyazaki movie.

We got back to Prince Roy’s place after 5pm, and went out again at night to shop for jackets. After that PR took us to a great little microbrew bar, where we sampled a bunch of beers in the second story of an old building on one of the city’s main old streets. We also had delicious chicken and shrimps dishes before picking our way through sidewalks crowded with evening diners (whoever sells those little red plastic stools must be making a killing) back to PR’s place.

What a great day!

I slept soundly at the Victory Hotel, probably due to the lack of the helicopters that featured so prominently in the advertising, but the musty, slightly less sucky room we ended up with also lacked hot water in the shower. Or much of any water, actually.

The hotel breakfast wasn’t bad; we sucked up some beef pho while a river of scooters flowed by, occasionally reaching up the sidewalk. A man who was apparently the late Isaac Asimov sat just behind me, and I couldn’t bring myself to ask Chenbl on exactly which plane the man existed. I do know that he was having toast.

It was muggy outside, muggy even by Taiwanese standards, when we set out, heading by the old presidential building and eventually across the street up to the cathedral. I say eventually because we spent a lot of time standing on the corner studying just how to cross a street here. It’s really an art; you have to pace yourself and appear unconcerned as you stride directly into the path of a hundred charging scooters, who (hopefully) all move around you in a potentially murderous ballet.

Various tour groups milled around the cathedral and the adjacent old post office, which was architectually quite neat, and is apparently still a functioning post office, as well as a tourist market. A wedding photographer placed his subjects out into the street for a photo, but though he may have been hoping to sell a shot of a car accident, nothing untoward happened until an older European gentleman embarassed his wife by running up for a picture with the bride.

We walked down towards the river, intermittently passing and being passed by a group of Aussie retirees. A large construction site promised a working subway by 2018. The old buildings are shaded by lovely old trees, but the tone of the area got distinctly seedy as we approached the river, which I found surprising. Surely the river is the life of a city? But when we reached the river, the city just kind of…ended. Nothing was on the other side but empty fields. I don’t get it, is it haunted or something?

We walked back up towards the hotel, as we had to check out, but first stopping so I could sample some of the local Dunkin Donuts and get a drink (I know, I’m terrible, but the donuts weren’t bad, actually; better than the Taipei version that so deservedly failed), and to be told by the official Sony store that they are above selling such droll things as battery chargers.

Back at the Victory, we doused ourselves with cold water from the shower, as the day had become really hot, and checked out just in time to find that the water we drank from the fridge was actually taxed in such a convoluted way that they hotel staff had to spend a couple of minutes figuring out how much to charge us. Then we sat in the lobby while I emailed Prince Roy to see if he’d landed yet. When he replied in the affirmative, we proceeded to walk over to his place. This would have been about a 5-minute walk, but Chenbl had mistaken one end of the street for the other, so we walked the entire length of the street twice before actually finding the place.

Prince Roy has a very nice pad, I have to say. He took us out walking around the city, showing us some of the sights. We went to a sprawling market or two looking for jackets, and eventually ended up having some delicious chicken pho at an interesting old restaurant decorated with 50s-era tiles and mirrors.

I really was not feeling it this morning when I got up, packed some things and headed to the airport with Chenbl. We were going to Vietnam; I knew it intellectually, but I just couldn’t get it into my head. It was a grey, cool day, not at all like summer. The copies of my book hadn’t yet arrived, so I couldn’t bring one to Prince Roy as I’d said I would. I also forgot a bunch of stuff. I was all kinds of a mess.

The airline, Cathay Pacific, formerly one of my favorites, was also kind of a mess. We got shafted to the back parking lot in Hong Kong, having to go up and down those presidential-style waving ramps, and the Popeyes Chicken failed to revive my spirits. On the way out of HK, we were put in a holding pen obviously designed for people destined for Southeast Asian countries, all dim lighting and concrete like a bad video game. You wouldn’t take a flight to Japan from that place.

The flight to Hanoi was ok. A bunch of loud Australians sat behind us, but it wasn’t any more irksome than loud mainland Chinese. We did fly past a truly magnificent thundercell, flashes of lightning strobing through the sunset.

Hanoi’s international airport is brand spanking new, but when we took the bus to the domestic airport, we found what appeared to be an old Chinese train station. I was surprised to see they had wifi.

The flight to Ho Chi Minh City was pretty empty. The Vietnamese passengers did pretty much whatever they wanted, seats back, shoes off, lying across aisles. Chenbl swore one guy was even smoking a cigarette, but the stewardesses didn’t seem bothered at any of it.

After we touched down and changed money, we then proceeded to get swindled out of a large amount of it by a taxi driver, just as the guidebook says. Then the hotel we booked, the “Victory”, tried to give us an awful room. We went down to the desk and demanded a slightly less awful room. Yay us. We’re pretty much going to assume everyone we don’t know here is trying to cheat us, I guess.