Hanoi

The train arrived on schedule at 03h30, leaving us 4 hours before we could drop our bags. Lemon tea, a car park disco. Small taxis with impressive hooters and sound systems.

Polite taxi driver, whose meter seemed to be of the ‘non-rip-off variety’. Defined as: a meter that turns faster than your heart beats!, brought us to the AirB&B at 60 Nguyen Truong To, Ba Dinh. The Circle K shop our reference point.

Cafe Linh, the first one to open near our apartment, for a rocket fuel coffee start to the day. Random art on the walls, ‘Art studio’ sign on the door of our apartment block. Smoking, never my best, an issue, with cafes filled with smoke. I did manage to get a portrait photo to use as a painting reference.

Ten hours of pavement pounding, a bit like ‘Gulliver in Lilliput Land’, through the Old Town of Hanoi. Senses assaulted by noise, dirt and uncontrolled chaos. A stop to orientate the map, before heading off at a tangent that didn’t end where expected. No worries, another dozen wrong turns and a helpful cyclo (three wheeled bicycle taxi) driver had us pointed in the right direction. Glad for the calmness of a brunch at Pan Pacific hotel. Total wimp that I am. There is absolutely nowhere to walk, other than the street as parked scooters take up every inch of space on the sidewalk. Perhaps 6am is the best time to be out walking in the city? Cool, quiet and somewhat magical. 

Saigon cafe along Truc Bach bustling with a bunch of scooter riders that seemingly fell out of the musical ‘Grease’. Leather jackets, studs, slicked back hair and attitude. The trendy women on Vespa’s, designer brand clothing, red lipstick and even more attitude.

Chopstick skills scrutinized Not sure what level proficiency was assessed. Chopstick Grade B?